Changes
by NP Jones
Summary: The Vengeance Demon D'Hoffryn has called his fellow Lower Beings Whistler and Skip to Arashmahar to play a game. The game? Manipulating the lives of Buffy, Spike and Angel. How? A simple wish...
1. The Rules Of The Game A Prologue

May 2002  
  
It was dark where he was. Not like nighttime on Earth, where even the blackest of nights at least held some light, even if it were from a few lonely stars. No, this was true darkness, absolutely devoid of any light. Complete blackness, inky and terrifying. Still, he stood there waiting. He silently cursed himself for not only agreeing to this meeting, but not picking up that Timex Indiglo watch he'd been eyeing for some time. At the very least, he'd have been able to light up a small portion of this realm. Sighing to himself, he began to pace, growing more impatient as the seconds clicked by in his head. "Where is he?!", he thought to himself, "This is the appointed place and time, near as I can figure. He should be here by now." He stopped pacing, taking a moment to adjust his fedora.  
  
"Whistler!"  
  
At the sudden mention of his name, Whistler, the Keeper of The Balance, jumped a good three feet in the air as a cone of pale light surrounded him, casting his features in sinister shadow. He looked around, spinning about in a circle when he spotted the being who had spoken his name. The very being he was waiting for.  
  
"D'Hoffryn."  
  
The being known as D'Hoffryn, Lord of the Vengeance Demons, or Justice Demons, as they now preferred, slowly moved toward Whistler, a cone of light around him as well. He spread his arms wide in greeting to Whistler.  
  
"Whistler, my good and loyal friend, I thank you for meeting me." He wrapped his arms around the smaller demon and hugged him warmly, then released him. "It has been too long."  
  
"Not long enough!", said Whistler, clearly still spooked and more than a little annoyed. "Why did you ask to see me now, D'Hoffryn? There's great trouble in the universe, particularly on Earth. I have a lot of work to do."  
  
"Yes, your dimension is in a great state of chaos. I have observed this." On that statement, D'Hoffryn waved his right arm out to his side, illuminating six images. They were images that Whistler recognized all too well. They were Earth's Chosen, the Champions of Earth, the few in the world who could stop the forces of darkness. Buffy Summers, the twice dead and twice resurrected Slayer, Angelus, now Angel, the Powers That Be's hand picked champion, Cordelia Chase, the now half demon Seer, who gave up fame and happiness to fight the good fight with Angel, William 'The Bloody', the vampire known as Spike, whose love for the Slayer led to his joining the forces of good, Willow Rosenberg, the most powerful witch in modern times, seduced by the siren call of vengeance and the darkest magic, and Faith, successor to Kendra, as she was to Buffy, as the Slayer. Whistler took in these images, noting that they seemed to be frozen in place like video cassettes on pauses. He turned to D'Hoffryn, a question forming in his mind, but before he could say anything, D'Hoffryn began to speak.  
  
"Why do I show you these images? Because I wish to play a game. I will explain the game I wish to play soon. But for now, watch these images play themselves out while we wait for the third player." With a flick of his wrist, D'Hoffryn willed the images to play. It was a strange experience for Whistler to watch the events representing the six people unfold, for they evoked in him both feelings of hope and guilt. The mix of suffering and joy was as uncomfortable to him as a knife twisting in his guts.  
  
The first scene he focused on was Faith. It was the shortest scene, and the most disappointing. This girl, who overcame so much sadness in her life to become a great Slayer, had been seduced by the very evil she fought against, turning her away from the only real friends she ever had. Now, three years later, she laid every night on a cot in a six by ten cell, paying the price for her redemption. He turned from that image, saddened, only to come face to face with Willow, hair and eyes black as onyx from the absorption of blackest magic. The scene fast forwarded to her being crumpled in a heap, crying into the chest of Alexander Harris. Her hair faded to its original color as her power was drained away, fueled in part by the stolen power of Rupert Giles. Her attempt to burn the world to a cinder had been foiled, but at what price? The poor child's own private world had been dashed to pieces by a pathetic little boy trying to play a man and his random bit of lead. And of course, right next this image was Angel's. The vampire with a soul was only just beginning to be rewarded for the work he had done for the Powers, what with the birth of his son and his burgeoning love for Cordelia Chase, only to have his life ripped away from him by an enemy from beyond the grave. Ever the martyr, Daniel Holtz used his own death at the hands of one of his own disciples to turn Angel's son Connor against him. The ploy was successful and now Angel lay entombed in a coffin of steel, buried at sea beneath the waves of the Pacific Ocean.  
  
Those were the scenes of misery, though, and now Whistler turned to observe the other three images. First to play out for him was Cordelia. The once cruel little girl had sacrificed so much for the good of the world, and now she finally being rewarded. As he watched the image, he could feel Cordelia join the other on this higher plane of existence, taking her place amongst those who serve the Powers. Then Buffy Summers, whose just reward in Heaven was ripped from her as she was ripped back into the world of the living by her friends, who drifted through her new life in a fog of unfeeling, whose only release was an illicit sexual relationship with Spike, was finally enjoying life again. It only took the near death of her sister, her friends and the world at large, but she was finally ready to live in the world.  
  
And finally, there was Spike. The neutered vampire who fought the good fight for the Slayer, who had become her confidant, the rock she could lean on, had found his love for Buffy repaid with cruel remarks and derision. Even when they began their affair, she swore him to secrecy, on account of her shame. Then she cut everything off. Finally, things hit rock bottom and Spike snapped. So desperate was he to show her how to feel again, that he had attempted to force himself on her. No matter how either of them attempted to justify it to themselves, it was still attempted rape. Broken and horrified by his actions, and realizing that as he was, he couldn't be a man nor could he be the monster he was, Spike fled to darkest Africa to become the only thing he could be: What Buffy Deserved. Facing and overcoming the three challenges laid out before him, he was rewarded with his soul.  
  
To the layman, it seemed to be a balanced deal. Three good situations, three bad. But to Whistler's trained eye, it was as bad as bad got. Even as he viewed the images, he knew that forces were aligning to take advantage of the situation, especially in Los Angeles, where both the good and bad events meant that the helpless in LA had even less hope than before. Whistler definitely didn't like what he was seeing, but he just knew in his heart that everything would have to work out okay in the end.  
  
Now, the only things he couldn't fathom was what game was D'Hoffryn playing at? More to the point, what game was he talking about? And how did it involve these six people? And lastly, who was this third player in D'Hoffryn's scheme.  
  
Whistler's third question was quickly answered. Another cone of light appeared, at first encompassing nothing, but slowly a silhouette formed within the light. The silhouette faded in and out before resolving into a huge demon, gray in color and clad in medieval battle armor. His red eyes glowed in the dark, and he had a halo formed from bone bisecting his head at the ears and going over his head like a roll bar. The halo was broken at one point just above his right eye. He looked every bit the personification of viciousness and destruction, a façade that lasted until he began to speak.  
  
"Hi. Name's Skip. You must be Whistler." He spoke with a polite, gentle voice, almost dignified. He put out his for Whistler to shake. Whistler hesitantly took the larger hand with his own and was rewarded with a firm and hearty handshake. "Nice to make your acquaintance! D'Hoffryn has told me so much about you." He released Whistler from the handshake and turned to D'Hoffryn. "So, why are we here? What's this 'game' you wish to play?"  
  
"Well", began D'Hoffryn, "now that we are all here, I suppose that I can explain the Game. First, though, I ask you both this question. Do you remember my most accomplished apprentice, Anyanka? Well, three years ago, Earth time, she granted her final wish to our most recent ascendant, one Cordelia Chase. The wish was a simple one, 'I wish Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale!'. This simple wish had an astounding reality altering effect. It completely changed the entire world. It was indeed what my dear Anyanka had said, a 'Brave New World'. I wish to see this again."  
  
Whistler was aghast. D'Hoffryn wanted to meddle in the lives of these people? That was his game?! It was a sickening thought. D'Hoffryn again picked up on Whistler's unvoiced thoughts. "Not to worry, my old friend", he said, "This time around, I propose certain ground rules. Controls for the experiment, as it were. First, No drastic changes. I have no desire to see how the Slayer could handle life on the Hellmouth if all of her friends were vampires. Small changes only. Second, there will be no altering of their essential character, unless it is a natural byproduct of the change. I don't desire to see if Willow really could succeed as a Pop Diva. Lastly, the changes all must be made prior to or just after Angel's attempt to unleash Acathla." D'Hoffryn looked over the faces of his fellow Gamers. "So, shall we play our little Game? Or should I just send some Justice Demons into the past and let them play?" Whistler and Skip looked at each other, then at D'Hoffryn. Slowly, they nodded their heads in agreement. D'Hoffryn smiled. "Excellent! Now then, what shall be our guiding change? Our catalyst to get this Game in motion? Do we allow Angel's soul to be restored before he opens Acathla's Doorway? No, too happy. Maybe we should make it so he never got his soul back ever? Or maybe." D'Hoffryn looked away from his companions for a moment, gazing off into the black void. He raised his head up, as if looking into something, then returned his gaze on Whistler and Skip. "Well!? Give me some ideas! This isn't a spectator sport! Give me an idea. Something so small, yet so significant, that our 'Brave New World' has no choice but to come into be! Think!"  
  
Skip had a few ideas for changes, but they were limited to the side players in this world, and even then limited to Angel Investigations, who he had only begun having dealings with this year. So, he didn't have a proper frame of reference to start the change. D'Hoffryn had many ideas, but none that he wished to use for the catalyst. He wanted his changes to be the twists in the plot, not the storyline itself. It was more fun that way.  
  
So it fell to Whistler, since he knew these people and the time frame the best. He thought long and hard, going through idea after idea, trying to make a choice that wouldn't catastrophically alter the lives of these people. Finally, he had a brainstorm. How about a change that wouldn't alter these people's lives so much as just fast forward them a little? Perfect. And he even knew the perfect point to make the change. He formulated his idea into a specific plan and said to D'Hoffryn, "I'm ready."  
  
"Excellent! Now, since we are in my realm, I am nearly omnipotent and therefore do not need for you to make a wish. Just hold your change in your mind and ask me your question."  
  
Whistler exhaled slowly. "Okay. Here goes.What if Drusilla attacked Buffy Summers instead of Spike during the Battle at Acathla's Doorway?"  
  
D'Hoffryn's eyes gleamed with power. "Let's find out."  
  
The End of The Beginning 


	2. Never Turn Your Back On A Wounded Vamp

May 1998  
  
Buffy Summers made her way into the antechamber of the Crawford Street Mansion after sending Xander to locate Giles in one of the rooms. Spike hadn't let her down after all. There they all were, Angelus, Drusilla, Spike in his wheelchair, and a smattering of minions, engrossed in the ritualistic ceremony that was no doubt for freeing Acathla. As Angelus chanted and the other vampires looked on, she slowly brought her sword up to strike the nearest minion. The sword was a gift from Kendra, her fellow Slayer, now dead at the hands of Drusilla. She thought about that fact as she brought the blade down, slicing neatly through the minion's neck, decapitating him. The other occupants in the room turned in shock to see the Slayer stride through the dust of the minion, sword again at the ready. Buffy sent a small smile Angelus' way as she said, "Hello, lover."  
  
Angelus gave Buffy an exasperated look. "I don't have time for this!"  
  
Buffy replied, "You don't have a lot of time left."  
  
"Coming on kind of strong, don't you think? You're playing some deep odds here. Do you really think you can take us all on?"  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
As Angelus stepped forward to confront Buffy, Spike made his move. He quickly stood up from his wheelchair, and wielding a fire poker, slammed it into the back of Angelus' head . Angelus collapsed face first into the ground, where Spike began to hit him again. He grinned evilly. "Painful, isn't it?" Drusilla stood there aghast, not knowing what to do. Spike stopped his beat down of Angelus just long enough to see the second minion sneaking up on Buffy as she walked towards Spike and Angelus. "Slayer, behind you!" he called out, then watched as Buffy spun around suddenly, decapitating the second vampire as Xander ran by, making his way to Giles' impromptu cell. He then turned to face Drusilla, knowing that he'd have to fend her off as well. Drusilla looked at Spike, eyes full of rage.  
  
"She's floating all around you, like the burning baby fish, yet you won't push her away! Not to worry my sweet, I'll break her hold on you!" With that, she leapt towards Buffy. This was all wrong. Spike thought for sure that Dru would attack him, buying the Slayer enough time to stop Acathla's release.  
  
"Slayer, watch out!" Spike yelled, hoping his warning was in time. It wasn't. Dru tackled Buffy, knocking her sword loose, and began striking her with fierce slaps.  
  
"You have bewitched my dear, sweet William. Time for you to say sorry." Drusilla grinned at Buffy, holding her two hands in her one and attempting to gouge her eyes out. "Maybe losing your eyes will dissolve your hold on my Spike."  
  
Buffy struggled to break free from the insane vampire's grip to no avail. It was almost as if Drusilla's psychosis was fueling her strength. It was all Buffy could do to keep Drusilla where she was, much less break free from her grip.  
  
"Dru, no!!" screamed Spike as he made his way over to help Buffy. "Let the Slayer go and let's get out of this bleedin' town." Spike stepped forward, ready to run when Angelus began to stir. "Oh, no you don't. Baby needs to stay down for his nap!" With that, Spike began to wail on Angelus again with the fire poker, swinging so hard that wet crunching sounds were soon emanating from the impacts.  
  
"My Angel's hurting!" whined Dru. "I must help him!" With that, she got off of Buffy and moved to stop Spike from continuing his beat down. Within seconds, Buffy was on her feet in hot pursuit, grabbing a stray shard of wood to use as an impromptu stake.  
  
"Stop beating on Daddy, Spike!" screamed Dru as she ran all out at Spike, who paused in his beating. As she tried to grab him, he slammed a swift back knuckle strike in Dru's left temple, stunning her and causing her to fall back directly on the Slayer's wooden stake. With a look of shock on all of their faces, Dru dissolved into dust.  
  
"No! No! DRUSILLA!!" screamed Spike. "You bitch, you broke your promise! You said we could leave!" He leapt at Buffy, game face on, ready to exact some vengeance. He struck Buffy with a fierce punch, knocking her down to the floor. Buffy sprung back to her feet in an instant, ready to battle her reluctant partner turned once again enemy.  
  
"Spike, stop! It was an accident! She just flew back on me when you hit her!" Buffy parried all of Spike's blows, noting that his rage had clouded his mind, crippling his fighting ability. "YOU hit her, not me! You want to blame someone, blame YOURSELF!" She then lashed out with a fierce sidekick, catching Spike in his midsection. If it weren't for his vampiric toughness, his spine would have been pulverized. Instead, it knocked him to the floor, nearly unconscious. She stepped toward Spike's prone form cautiously, unsure of the damage she had inflicted. "Spike's tougher than he looks", she thought to herself. She knelt down near him, checking him over. "Spike?" she said. "Are you okay?"  
  
Spike slowly turned himself over, grimacing in pain as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Of course I'm not okay, you twit! I just watched the love of my life crumble into dust! How'd you feel? Oh, bloody Hell." Spike sat up, his face streaked with tears. "How could you do that to me, Slayer? We had a deal!"  
  
"And I was all for honoring it, until, you know, the whole "I'm the Big Bad, and I'm gonna smack Drusilla away from me right into the Slayer's stake" thing. You know full well that more often than not, I have a stake in my hand. It kinda goes with the job title. You know, 'Slayer'?" She reached down, her hand outstretched. She looked into his pained eyes, looking for any sign of reason amongst all the rage and misery she saw there. "Please, Spike. I need you now! I don't know if I can take Angel out on my own."  
  
"Well, its time to find out, now isn't it!" came a voice from behind her. She spun around, a look of abject horror on her face.  
  
"Angel! No!" she cried out. But it was too late. He had already pulled out the sword embedded in the statue of Acathla. Ready or not, it was go time for Buffy. She picked her own sword off of the ground and moved to engage the vampire.  
  
"You almost made it Buff", he said, smirking at her.  
  
"It's not over yet", she replied as she moved to engage him.  
  
"My boy Acathla's about to wake up. You're going to Hell."  
  
"Save me a seat." Buffy swung out for the first strike, only to have it blocked by Angelus' own blade. They began to circle each other. "He's not Angel, he's not Angel.he's a vicious, psychotic demon that needs to be put down", she thought to herself over and over again, repeating it in her head like a mantra, hoping to channel her grief into her strength, maybe giving her a chance in Hell of actually pulling this off. Swords clashed again and again, sparks flying everywhere. Move and countermove, thrusts and parries. They seemed evenly matched, moving almost as if they were figure skaters, her nimble grace and his animal passion. Finally, Angelus' power and relentlessness got the better of Buffy. He cut her arm, knocking her to the ground, her sword skittering across the floor.  
  
Spike, finally able to get to his feet, saw everything. "Oh God. He's going to kill her", he said, to no one in particular. He willed himself to walk, but barely got three feet before collapsing again. "Sorry, Slayer, you're on your own".  
  
Angelus kicked Buffy against the wall, his sword precariously close to her face. She closed her eyes, looking defeated. "That's everything, huh? No weapons, no friends. No hope. Take all that away and what's left?" He swung his sword straight down to cleave her skull. Without opening her eyes, Buffy reached up and caught the blade between her hands. Then she opened her eyes, looking into the shocked face of her former lover.  
  
"Me."  
  
With a simple jerking motion, she slammed the hilt of the sword into Angelus' face and kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling on the floor. With grim determination, she battled him back to the front of the statue where she finally cut him, sending his sword flying. Without remorse, she stalked a backpedaling Angelus. He slipped and fell to his knees. As she went to strike, Angelus' eyes began to glow and a shockwave seemed to pass through his body. It lasted an instant and an eternity. He seemed confused, and unsure. "Buffy?" He blinked twice and looked around "What's.where am.everything's so muddled". He looked at Buffy again "You're hurt." He reached out to touch her. She instinctively flinched, but the touch was tender and soft.  
  
"Angel?" Buffy could hardly believe what she was seeing. Her Angel, the man she loved, had returned to her.  
  
"Slayer, get it over with!! Take him out!" Spike yelled. He noticed before the other two people in the room that Acathla's mouth had widened significantly, a whirlwind effect starting to form. "Look at the friggin' statue, pet!"  
  
Buffy looked over Angel's shoulder. Spike was right. Angelus had opened the gateway to Hell. Now, the only thing that could close it was.Angel. Tears started flowing from her eyes as she realized what she had to do for her friends, for the innocent people of the world, and for herself. She dried her eyes, then pulled Angel close to her, grabbing him tightly.  
  
"What's happening, Buffy", asked Angel.  
  
"Shh.it doesn't matter." She pulled away to look at his face. She then brought her lips to his and kissed him passionately. "I love you."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"Close your eyes." She brings the sword up, ready to stab Angel. Ready to have heart broken all over again.  
  
Spike moved in behind Buffy, leaning in close. "Do it, Slayer. Do it now before it's too late!" he hissed in her ear. "It's time to save the bloody world, girl. You had best be up to it."  
  
"I c-can't. I know I have to, b-but I.I." She began to waver, her sword lowering slightly.  
  
Angel's eyes began to flutter open. He squinted then, noticing the bleach blond hair just beyond Buffy, said "Spike? What are you doing here? Buffy, you need to move out of the way now. I'll take care of Spike."  
  
Acathla's mouth opened wider still, the vortex growing stronger. Furniture began to move toward the vortex. Spike realized that it was now or never. "Oh, bugger this!" he exclaimed as he grabbed the Slayer's sword hand, fiercely thrusting it forward into Angel's chest. Angel's eyes bugged out, then he grimaced in pain. Suddenly, the vortex only pulled on Angel, dragging him closer to the mouth of Acathla, closer to Hell.  
  
"No!! No! I can't lose him again!" Buffy screamed as she shook off Spike's grasp, reaching out to grab onto Angel. If she grabbed him, held on tight enough, maybe, just maybe.  
  
"No, Slayer, can't let you do that, now", said Spike as he reaffirmed his grip, this time around Buffy's waist, dragging her ever farther away from Angel. Angel began to fade from view, gradually becoming a vague outline of a man, then merely shadow, then.nothing. The jaws snapped shut. The vortex disappeared.  
  
"ANGELLLLL!!!!" Buffy cried out, her mind searching for answers. Where was he? He just came back to her, how could he leave so soon? The tears flew freely, streaming down her face. Her voice grew hoarse and she began to choke.  
  
"That's it, Slayer, get it out now. Better to grieve now and move on wit' yer life, than to keep it all bottled up and explodin' from the pressure. Yep, that's right.right indeed." He released the Slayer and stumbled over to the tiny pile of dust and ash that once was his Black Princess. Weakness finally overcame him as he fell to his knees in realization. Drusilla was gone. "Ashes to ashes and all that", he said to himself. Now the tears ran down his face, dropping from his face onto the pile of dust. Spike then felt a small hand tighten around his shoulder. He was suddenly back on his feet, a new rush of adrenaline urging his battered carcass on as he spun around, coming face to face with Buffy. She looked as if in shock, skin clammy and pale, lower lip all chewed up in her teeth. Before he could say a word, she lashed out with a left cross, planted solidly on the right temple. Spike's vision exploded into a field of starbursts as he fell once more to his knees. Before he could recover, she began kicking him in the ribs. Her final blow sent him flying into one of the mansion walls, causing the old building to shudder from the impact. Another burst of adrenaline spurred Spike to his feet and he rushed back towards the Slayer, game face on. He laid into her with a fierce punch to the face. Buffy staggered back, startled by the ferocity of Spike's attack. She swung out with another punch, but her timing was off. Spike blocked the blow and answered with a knee to the stomach. Buffy doubled over, and then dropped to her knees. She had used up the last of her own adrenaline with the last volley and was just too tired to move. Spike moved in for the kill, grabbing a fistful of hair. "I'm gonna bag me my third Slayer, and it's all for you, Dru!" he shouted as he yanked Buffy to her feet. As he turned her head to taste his bittersweet victory, he looked into her tear- soaked, bloodshot eyes. What he saw there amazed him. It was utter resignation. She was ready to die. No fight left in her at all.  
  
"Fight back, Slayer!! I want my pound of flesh, damn it! Now fight me!! You broke your promise and its time to pay the piper!" he spat his words as a shudder overcame his body. His knees began to quake and tears spilt out yet again. They collapsed together, tears flowing freely. Without truly realizing it, they gripped each other tightly, sobbing in concert. "Bloody Hell, f-f-fight me, stake me or die tryin', just FIGHT!"  
  
"Why? What do I have to fight for? My friends? All m-my being here has done is get them hurt. My family? Not wanted there. Myself? What's the p-point without.without." she couldn't finish. It was too hard to continue. It just was too painful for her.  
  
"Without him, Slayer? Oh yeah, I really care about how your world's gonna fall apart without your precious Angel! What about MY world?! Huh?! How am I supposed to go on without my Black Princess!" Now it was Spike's turn to falter. His chest constricted so tightly that he would've been gasping for air, had he needed to breathe. "Suck it up William", he thought to himself. "It's time to be Big Bad. Can't let my pain control me. Not yet, anyway." He inhaled slowly and deeply, not that he needed breath, but to center himself, to focus. Slowly, he began to regain control. He began to extricate himself from the tangle of limbs that was he and the Slayer.  
  
"You.you took him away from me", she said accusingly, tears still flowing.  
  
"And you took her away from me. The way I figure it, we're even", spat Spike, wiping his face dry. Then, painfully, he stood up straight, fixed his clothing, readjusted his leather duster, and held his hand out to Buffy. "Here, let me help you up." She gingerly took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. "Don't you need to be somewhere?" he sneered. "Yeah, that's the ticket. Get all hard and unfeeling like. That'll do the ticket. Dead cert", he thought. He looked her in the eye. "Like home?"  
  
"What home?" said Buffy, trying hard to stop crying. "Mom told me not to come back." Finally able to summon a shred of toughness, her tears stopped. She began clearing off her own face. "Shouldn't you be going somewhere, yourself? As in, out of town?"  
  
"Yeah, I reckon so, Slayer. I'll be getting out of your hair soon enough. I'll just get in the old DeSoto and run off into the morning sun. Once I get out of city limits, though, I think I'll take a walk." He began to walk away from the Slayer, determined to get the Hell away from this town and embrace the sun for the first time since he became a vampire. His forward progress was halted, however, as Buffy spun him back around and gripped him by both arms. She looked into his eyes, fury and anger mixed with a dash of confusion radiating off of her.  
  
"Why give up now Spike, when you just fought so hard to stay alive, or un- alive or whatever the Hell vampires do? I mean, God, YOU just sent Angel to Hell to save this world! Why end it now!? What about dog racing, Manchester United and walking happy meals?"  
  
"All those things, they mean nothin' without Drusilla. How can I enjoy this world when the best part of it's a pile of ashes on the ground. And besides, you saved the world. I just gave you a little bit of help, s'all." He shook off her grip gently. "Go home, Buffy." With that, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door leading to the garage.  
  
Buffy ran after him, grabbing his arm and spinning him to face her again. "Spike, wait. You lost someone important to you, and it was my.fault." said Buffy, who had been thinking about it since Spike mentioned her taking Drusilla from him. "It WAS my fault. I didn't need to run up to Drusilla with my stake at the ready. And isn't it oh so coincidental that Drusilla lands on my stake in such a matter that it pierces her heart?" Buffy thought this through again. Drusilla murdered Kendra. Murdered. She didn't even fight with Kendra and win, like Spike and the two Slayers he had killed. He was up front about it. Drusilla hid behind her psychic abilities, tricking Kendra into lowering her guard and letting her throat be slit. Yes, that made it official. Buffy wanted Dru dead, in a permanent manner. And she got what she wanted. "I lost Angel, who was more important to me than anyone could ever know. You made that happen. But that doesn't just mean we're even. It means all we have left is each other, enemies or not. I refuse to let you die, every bit as you refused to let me die back there with Angel. So you're going to leave town, obeying the condition of our deal. And since I have nowhere else to go, guess what? You just got a new excuse to drive in the carpool lane. ME!"  
  
Spike stared into Buffy's pained eyes. Once again, he was amazed. Where once he saw total defeat, he now saw a new sense of purpose form. "Bloody Hell, she wants to use me as an excuse to leave? Bugger that", he thought. And yet, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop her. Oh, he could avoid her, but she would just track him down to the ends of the Earth. Better to just play the role. He could always enjoy the sunrise another day. "You really serious? D'ya really want ta see the world accordin' to Big Bad? All right then, luv. We'll swing by your place, get a few of your fav'rit things, and its south we go. We'll lay low in L.A. for a time, maybe a couple of months, but that's it. We go our separate ways after that. The last thing we need is to be cramping each other's styles for too long. And before you get all high an' mighty about me endin' it all, I promise I will not kill myself. "Yet." You have my word of bond on it. And Ol' Spike ain't no welcher, that's for sure."  
  
"No room for negotiation, huh?" He shook his head. "I didn't think so. Fair enough. I'll take your terms. Can we go?"  
  
"Right this way. Just let me grab my bags, an' we'll be off."  
  
"Fine." As Spike went upstairs to grab his bags, Buffy began to cry again. She did her best to stifle her sobs but the tears were uncontrollable. She collapsed in a quivering heap on the floor. She curled herself into a fetal position, just wanting it all to just turn off. No feeling. No pain. No emotions. But she knew that it was impossible, short of Spike's solution. She wasn't ready to give up on life, not yet. She just needed to get away from here, this town that has caused her so much pain.  
  
Spike returned from upstairs with his bag. He really didn't want to take anything to remind him of the bad times here. He had enough of those to last six lifetimes. He was all prepared to tell the Slayer to sod off and go home, when he saw her, curled on the ground. She was shaking, and Spike could smell the grief emanating from a woman he knew to be so strong and resilient. Without any proclamation, he simply walked over and scooped her up. She relaxed some in his arms and looked up at him, sniffling, asks, "Why?"  
  
"Everyone needs help here an' there, luv. Suppose maybe it's your turn. Now, off we go! Only a half hour 'fore sunrise. Got to hit the road!" He carried Buffy to the garage, put her in the passenger seat of the Desoto, threw his bag in the backseat, slid across the bonnet, and hopped into the driver's seat. Not even bothering to open the garage, he started up the car, slammed on the gas, burst through the garage door, and headed straight for the highway. After a quick stop at Buffy's home to let her get some belongings, they headed straight out of town. Spike eyeballed a sign in the distance. After a few minutes, the sign became legible. It originally said, "You are now leaving Sunnydale. Come back soon!" However, some practical joker made a few modifications.  
  
"You are now leaving SunnyHELL. NEVER Come back", Spike read as he drove by the sign. "Here's hoping."  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah, Slayer?"  
  
"Are you really going to leave me in L.A., then take off?" She looked at him with pained eyes, imploring him silently to not leave her alone.  
  
Spike saw that look before. It was in the eyes of his Black Princess, just after the mobbing in Prague. He knew the look well. There was only one thing he could say in a situation like this.  
  
"We'll see what we'll see, Slayer", he said with his trademark smirk. With that, he turned on his stereo, hit his CD change button, selected his track, and cranked the volume. The black DeSoto Sportsman with blacked out windows sped down the deserted highway, the only evidence of its presence being a swiftly fading 'Anarchy in the UK' by the Sex Pistols.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued. 


	3. The Long And Lonely Road

Spike bobbed and weaved his battered DeSoto through the early morning commute traffic, cursing the fact that he hadn't gotten on the road sooner. Yet, he knew how important it was for the Slayer sleeping at his side to gather her belongings. It's a difficult thing to just uproot oneself from somewhere they consider home. He knew the feeling. Leaving London had been bittersweet. On the one hand, it was great to escape memories of William Bennett and his miserable existence, yet it was hard to leave his home. And that was exactly what Buffy was doing.  
  
As Spike continued to drive, he changed out CD's from the Sex Pistols to the Ramones. He skipped tracks to his personal favorite, "I Wanna be Sedated" and cranked the volume up. Then turned it back down again. "Wouldn't want to wake her up, she'd just start bawlin' again. Then I'd start, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Not like he needed a reason to start up again. The pain was there; he just didn't have any more tears to give. Not yet. He looked over at the sleeping Buffy. He saw her eyes twitching beneath her lids, and her body shaking. "She's dreaming, and it's not about bunnies or beaches, dead cert." As if on cue, Buffy began to talk in her sleep.  
  
"Angel, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, I know. No, please don't leave me. I need you. No, no don't go. ANGEL!!" She shot upright as if struck by lightning, eyes wide and brimming with tears. "Was it all a dream?" she wondered. Then she looked around, befuddled by her surroundings until realization dawned upon her. It was all real. Slowly, she looked towards the driver's side of the car and who was sitting there looking at her. "Spike. I've attached myself to a cold blooded killer who may or may not decide that killing me is a much better idea than holing up somewhere in L.A. with the person who killed his lover. What was I thinking?" she thought. "Oh, yeah. He ran Angel through with the sword. HE sent Angel to Hell. We owe each other. I just hope that I'm doing the right thing." She sat up straight, tried to look through the blacked out windshield without success, and groaned. "How do you see through this?" she asked, trying to keep to small talk.  
  
"Its not hard, once you've been doin' it for a decade or four", responded Spike, likewise not trying to get into deep conversation. "You get used to th' fact that you can't see much. An' if you think this is hard, try doin' it in th' rain or th' fog."  
  
"Gee, sounds exciting. A lot like pulling teeth. Oodles of fun for all ages."  
  
"Ha ha. Yer a barrel o' laughs, to be sure. Uhm.d'ya need food or something? I could stop somewhere, let you run in a fast food place, if'n you like."  
  
"I could use some yummy goodness, to coin a Xanderism", replied Buffy. She instantly regretted making that comment. It brought up bad memories. Xander Harris was the last Scooby she saw before.she pushed the thought back to her subconscious before the pain came back.  
  
Spike saw the look on her face. He'd seen that face before. Drusilla would look like that, on those rare occasions where she was lucid. Those were the times that the demon receded and the frightened little girl would come through. Those were the times that were hardest. Those were the times he had to take care of Drusilla the most. Only now, he doesn't have to anymore. His Black Princess was returned to the earth from which she came. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. He suppressed a shudder, knowing that it would lead to more tears. "There's a Burger Barn up ahead, Slayer. Shall we stop?"  
  
"O-okay", replied Buffy, finally regaining her composure. She looked Spike dead in the eye, summoned up a little bit more willpower and asked, "Why are you being nice to me? I mean, you and me, mortal enemies, ring a bell?"  
  
"Yeah, well, it's like you said, Slayer, we've nothin' left in this bleedin' world. An' we're both at fault for it. So, th' way I figure it, misery loves company. 'Sides, it's not like we're bosom buddies or the like, we just have this in common an' we both need a shoulder to cry...to lean on. Since we've no one else, like you said, we gotta have each other, at least for now."  
  
"Are you absolutely sure you're William the Bloody, the 200 year old killer of 2 Slayers?"  
  
"I'm 118, actually, in vamp years. I was 26 when Dru sired me in 1880, so if you do the math, this body's been roamin' th' earth for 144 years."  
  
"Oh, Giles said the Watchers' books put you at 200."  
  
"Prob'ly 'cause they didn't want to admit a 20 year old rookie drained one o' their precious slayers."  
  
"And, Drusilla sired you? I thought Angel was your sire?"  
  
"Two different meanin's to that word. Yeah, Dru sired me, made me a vamp. But Angelus, he was the man in charge. Even though Darla sired him, HE was Sire. When I say Sire in ref to Angel, it's best to think "Master". Y'know, like THE Master."  
  
"I didn't know that. Who makes all these rules?"  
  
"I dunno, isn't it in the Slayer Handbook?"  
  
"What, did everyone know about the Slayer Handbook but me?"  
  
To Buffy's surprise, Spike began to snicker. The snicker grew into a chuckle, and then became full blown laughter. Side splitting laughter.  
  
"Y-you mean to t-tell me that you've never read th' Slayer's Handbook? Hehehehe, that's bloody 'ilarious!"  
  
"Don't start with me, you vile blood sucker!" Buffy began to slap Spike on the arms and chest. He began to swerve on the road.  
  
"Bloody Hell, Slayer!" he exclaimed, game face sliding into place. "You're gonna get us both killed! Is that what you want, you annoying bint! You want some death!?" Suddenly, the slaps ceased. Spike regained control of the car, and looked around for any cops that might have seen the DeSoto swerving out of control. "Couldn't 'ave th' police pullin' us over right now. Be real interestin', a cop givin' a ticket to a pile of dust." Once he decided it was safe, Spike edged the car towards the exit leading to the Burger Barn. As he drove down the off ramp, he looked at Buffy again. She was pushed up as close to the passenger door as she could get, stake in her right hand. There was a look of fear in her eyes for a moment, then as quick as it appeared, her fear retreated in favor of anger.  
  
"Put the fangs away, or I'll give YOU some death, you vile son of a bitch. Don't think you can scare me, you sick freak. I've woken up with bad hair days that were more terrifying than you!"  
  
"Ooh, I'm so bleedin' frightened now. You think you can take me, Slayer? Try. Please. I'm bloody beggin' you. Take me out. Then try to get this car under control before you crash into somethin'. Go for it. Dance with me." He let his human face come forward as he leaned into her. "Here's yer chance. Take yer shot. See how far you get before I rip yer throat out."  
  
"Spike, stop the car."  
  
"I don't think. Yer not getting' off that easy."  
  
"Spike. Stop. The. Car."  
  
"Why? So you can run off into the sunlight and avoid the thrashin' you so definitely deserve?"  
  
"No, the Burger Barn is right in front of us and if you don't stop, we'll crash into the front of the building."  
  
"Oh, well then, since you put it that way", Spike said as he slammed on the brakes. The DeSoto screeched to a halt. "Well, what are you goin' to do? Sit there like a bleedin' dolt or go get some soddin' food?"  
  
"I'll be right back."  
  
"Sure. Right then, I'll be right 'ere waitin' for you."  
  
Buffy was true to her word. She was only gone 5 minutes when she jumped back into the car, several bags of food in her arms. "Let's go", she said as she dug into the first bag, retrieving 2 breakfast burritos. "Want one?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
They drove in silence for a half hour before Buffy asked, "Spike, would you tell me more about yourself? The real you, not what the books say, and not your party line."  
  
"Well, what do you want to know about?" Buffy was amazed at how Spike just flipped back and forth between blind short-fused rage and gentle calmness.  
  
"What were you like.before?"  
  
" 'Fore what?"  
  
"You know, before.you died?"  
  
"Oh, you wanna know 'bout William Bennett." As Spike said the name of his former self, his voice changed. Gone was the lower class cockney accent, he now spoke with a soft, yet clipped proper King's English accent that would have made Rupert Giles sound like a commoner. "I was born in 1854, to a very dignified and wealthy merchant father and a prim and proper mother. I was schooled at private boarding schools until I was 18, at which time I enrolled at Cambridge, where I studied economics and business. I was expected to take over for my father, but my heart wasn't in it. I was a gentle spirit, not inclined to aggressiveness. I was a romantic, and wanted desperately to be a writer. A poet, that's what I was. Unfortunately, I wasn't a very good one, so I spent the bulk of my time being a dignified socialite." He noticed Buffy's perplexed look. "I was a snob."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah, sounds like fun don't it?" he was back to Spike speak. "I was pathetic, sittin' around the foyer at the house o' whoever was throwin' the shindig o' th' evenin', writin' bloody awful poetry an' pinin' away for one Cecily Addams. She was th' daughter o' one o' th' House o' Lords. Y'know, like the Senate an' all that bollocks. Anyways, she was a decent lookin' chit, an' I wanted nothin' more out of life than to be her lovin' husband. But, alas it wasn't meant to be, and on th' same night she rejected me, I met."  
  
"Drusilla?"  
  
"Yeah, she was a weird bird, but she was attracted to me for some reason, I hadn't the foggiest at the time, but now, I think it was all the darkness in my soul at th' time."  
  
"That makes sense, with her clairvoyant abilities, I'm sure she could tune in on what she was looking for, considering that she probably felt left out, what with Darla and Angel.Angelus."  
  
"Give th' pigeon a bloody gold star. Hit th' nail on th' bleedin' head right there, you did."  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."  
  
"No, yer 'xactly right. That's what it was. She was lonely, an' wanted a playmate. An' that's what she got, at least until Angelus went all poofty an' got a bleedin' soul. Couple o' years later, I bagged my first slayer, Soul Boy hit th' road to brood or whatever he was doin' for th' last hundred years, an' Darla ran back to her 'Master' and his 'unlife partner' Luke. You ever meet that piece o' work? Dumb as a post, he was. An' all religious like, as if Vampirism was th' Second Comin' or somethin'. You ever fight him? Real big guy, ugly as all Hell, even for a vamp? Now that I think about it, he kinda resembled The Judge."  
  
"Yeah, I remember that lame-o. I staked him my first week in Sunnydale, during the Harvest. He was strong, but that was it about it. I actually got him to think the sun had risen about 9 hours before it actually did. He's currently residing in a dust buster."  
  
"Serves him right, th' soddin' git. An' he was th' Master's fav'rit too. Bet that wanker bloody cried a month over losin' that piece o' filth."  
  
"The Master was plenty teed off, but then he got his 'Anointed One' and I guess he got all better."  
  
"Oh, yeah, th' 'Annoyin' One'. He was a barrel o' laughs, that one was. He actually expected me, ME, to sacrifice my life for failin' him."  
  
"How'd you fail him?"  
  
"Still breathin', aren't you?"  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Still can't believe yer mum beat my arse that night. It was kinda funny, though. 'Get your hands off my daughter!' an' all that. Your mum's a brave one, dead cert."  
  
"Yeah, Mom's a toughie. She didn't even cry when her and Dad divorced. She just sucked it up and did her best to make my life go well. She honestly thought Sunnydale was the best place for me to get a fresh start. Funny how that turned out."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"Duh? Hellmouth ring a bell, or has all that bleach started to eat at your brain, instead of just your follicles? You know, they got this new invention. Its called Neutrogena. It'd probably help fix that damaged hair of yours" she smiled sweetly at him.  
  
"Oh, yer a riot. A regular Lenny Bruce you are."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Never mind, before yer time."  
  
"Whatever. Look, we're at the city limits. At least, that's what I think the sign said. I just can't see through all this goop on your windshield."  
  
"That's what th' sign said, Slayer. In a few minutes, we'll be in beautiful downtown Los Angeles."  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"What's that, Slayer?"  
  
"My name is Buffy."  
  
"I know that, Slayer."  
  
"You can call me that, if you want."  
  
"Is that what you want me to call you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Right then, Buffy it is. Until you change it."  
  
"Why would I change it?"  
  
"Yer headed underground, luv. Wouldn't be smart to go by yer real name."  
  
"I hadn't thought of that."  
  
"I know."  
  
To Be Continued. 


	4. Deal With It

Rupert Giles shifted uncomfortably in his hospital bed. He hadn't wanted to come here, but Xander was insistent. He needed medical attention, badly. No first aid kit in the world was going to suffice in his case. Angelus had been thorough enough, not to mention Drusilla's mind-rape. He cursed himself for being so weak so as to fall for her psychic tricks. It didn't matter, though. It had been a week since the vampires had attempted to awaken Acathla, and since he wasn't in Hell, assuming anyone thinks hospitals are Heaven, he knew that his Slayer, his Buffy, the girl he thought of as the daughter he would never have, was successful. She had stopped Angelus from opening the Vortex, and with any luck, sent that sadistic bastard to his just desserts. He grinned at that thought, knowing that maybe, just maybe, his darling Jenny would rest in peace at last. He could move on with his own life, help Buffy deal with the fallout of her vanquishing Angelus. It's not every day that you are asked to kill the man you love for the sake of billions of people who don't even care about you. Yet, that's exactly what she did. So selfless, so brave. So willing to do what was necessary, and yet, so tender and fragile. After all, she was only 17, an age when her biggest fears should be what boy likes her and what college should she go to, and not will the world still be here tomorrow. The life of the Slayer is so unfair. Just like the life of the Watcher, duty and service. Never mind if you'd like to live a little. Rupert often thought of how his life would be, if he never answered that clarion call, as his father and grandmother had. Would he have been a fighter pilot in the RAF? Or a grocer? Would he have never outgrown the "Ripper" persona he had affected during his Oxford years? Would he be dead, killed by the mischief he and his mates had caused? Not that it mattered, really. He knew the past was the past, and he needed to focus on the present. Like that he was presently in an inordinate amount of pain. "O-oh dear", he murmured through clenched teeth, "that hurts."  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Giles? You have a visitor. Are you up to it?" said a very pretty redheaded nurse as she peeked into his private room.  
  
"Y-yes, o-of course. P-please, send them in", he said as he did his best to put a smile on his face. He barely was able to manage a grimace when a bespectacled young man with very, British, fashion sense tentatively entered the room, ushering in a tall brunette girl who looked rather angry at having to be there. She had a rather unique look about her, trashy and low class, yet exuding wave after wave of raw sexuality. She took one look at Giles' battered form and exclaimed, "Damn, Mr. G., I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like!"  
  
"I-I'm sorry, do I know the two of you?" queried Giles.  
  
"Oh, well, uhm, yes, I suppose introductions are in order. Mr. Rupert Giles, I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, and this is my charge, Miss Faith Evers. We have been sent to assist you."  
  
"A-assist me? In w-what regard?"  
  
"Mr. Travers sent us."  
  
"Ah. So she is."  
  
"Yes, she's Kendra Sandoval's replacement."  
  
"She knows.about this town?"  
  
"Hey, 'She' is standing right in front of you people! Christ, do I look dumb or something? You wanna know about me? Ask me", said Faith, obviously getting frustrated, "I know all about the fun and games that come with Sunnydull. I know all about my 'Sacred Duty' and all that crap. 'In every generation there is the. yadda, yadda, yadda."  
  
"Ah, y-yes, I suppose you d-do indeed", said Giles wearily. "M-my apologies."  
  
"Chill, Geeves. It's five by five. Winston here filled me in on all the details on the trip from Boston."  
  
"Actually, it's Wesley, not."  
  
"Winston, Wesley, whatever. Just point me in the direction of the bloodsuckers and let me get to work, 'cause I'm feelin' kinda jumpy. Need to have some fun."  
  
"M-my, you certainly are quite.enthusiastic about slaying", said Giles, slightly perturbed by her last statement.  
  
"Yeah, it's such a rush. Like morphine, or X. Slaying just gets me so amped!!"  
  
"Y-you've encountered vampires already?"  
  
"Yeah, in Boston when Wes here came to tell me about the Call, then in St. Louis when we stopped for a couple nights to.rest up", Faith said coyly, looking at Wesley shyly as he turned beet red.  
  
"Faith, would you please excuse us, we need to speak privately", said Wesley, barely able to contain his embarrassment and anger.  
  
"Sure thing. No prob. I'll go find some cute orderly to flirt with", Faith said as she sauntered out of the room, exaggerating her movements to call attention to her figure.  
  
Once she was gone, Wesley turned to Giles and said, "I-I just want you to know that-that, what she said, that is what she inferred."  
  
"Relax, Mr. Pryce, I could tell she was lying. She's not very good at it."  
  
"Uhm, yes, well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go meet with Principal Snyder."  
  
"Oh? W-whatever for?"  
  
"Two things. First, I have to get Faith enrolled in school. And get myself a job, as well."  
  
"A j-job? As what?"  
  
"English teacher. I had completed my certifications when I was at Oxford, shortly before I was called on to be Faith's Watcher."  
  
"You're not good at it either. Try the truth, young man. It's easier."  
  
"Yes, well, my Watcher's training is not complete. That's why we were sent here. Once you have signed off on me, I'll be Faith's Watcher. Until then, she will be under your charge, along with your own slayer, of course. I'll be your assistant, unless, of course you've an issue with that."  
  
"No, that's fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to scream in bloody agony for a few hours."  
  
"Sorry? Oh, yes, of course. Good day to you, sir."  
  
"Cheers."  
  
"Right", with that, Wesley left. Giles began rolling his eyes. "What have I done to deserve this? Not only do I have to nursemaid some initiate, but I get to deal with 'Lolita' the Vampire Slayer? What more agony could possibly I have to deal with?"  
  
"Mr. Giles, you have more visitors."  
  
"Oh, that's lovely. Please send them in", he grumbled. "Of course", he thought, "more good news, I'm sure."  
  
The nurse retreated from the room again, admonishing his new visitors, "Please be brief. Mr. Giles needs his rest."  
  
"We won't be long, but he needs to hear this from us", said a gentle, innocent female voice that Giles immediately identified as Willow Rosenberg.  
  
"Yeah, it's important. It's about Buffy", said a male voice. That had to be Xander.  
  
"Buffy?" asked the nurse. "Who's Buffy?"  
  
"Oh, she's the S-, owww!!!" said an irritating female. Cordelia Chase, most likely. What was wrong with Buffy that the Scoobies had to come tell him, and not Buffy herself?  
  
"Stepdaughter. Yeah, she's his stepdaughter", covered Xander.  
  
"Stepdaughter? I don't have Mr. Giles even listed as married, much less having children of any kind."  
  
"He's divorced, but he and Buffy are still tight," said another male voice, quieter and more confident than Xander. Had to be Oz.  
  
"Oh, well, since it's about family, stay as long as you need to. But bear in mind that upsetting Mr. Giles right now will not help his condition any."  
  
"But he has to know!! Of all of us, he's the one who needs to know!!" cried Willow. She began to sob loudly.  
  
"Willow, w-what's the matter? Come in, children, and tell me what's the matter with Buffy? I-is she hurt? O-or.?"  
  
"Well, G-man, we'd love to tell you, but we don't know, either", said Xander angrily.  
  
"I-I don't u-understand. How could you not know what's wrong with Buffy?"  
  
"Giles, she's.gone", said Willow, still sobbing.  
  
"Gone? I-I'm afraid I still don't understand. Gone where?"  
  
"We don't know. All we've been able to figure out is that she skipped town after stopping Angel", said Xander.  
  
"And you waited until now to tell me?!"  
  
"We wanted to tell you sooner, but you were still so weak, we didn't think you could take it."  
  
"How kind of you all", he spat. The Scoobies all looked ashamed. He continued, "How did she leave? Where did she go? Did she leave a note or a l-letter?"  
  
"She left a letter to her mom. She called us as soon as she read it. It looks like she just grabbed some clothes and money, but that was it. She didn't even take any weapons with her", said Willow, attempting to compose herself.  
  
"D-did you check the bus station? Airport? Contact all the taxi services? S- surely, one of them had to have."  
  
"We did all of that. However she left, it wasn't any of those. She just.vanished. Kinda cool, if you think about it", said Cordelia. When everyone began to stare at her, she remarked, "What? She escaped Sunnydale. I'll give anyone who can pull that off all the props in the world."  
  
"Now is not the time to be talking about Buffy's 'coolness'! She ran out on us. She left us to deal with the Hellmouth and all the big fun that it brings. Oh, and did I mention, there's no slayer!! How can we deal with all the creepiness that is sure to take advantage once they find out the Slayer is splitsville!!" yelled Xander.  
  
Giles took a deep breath, and coolly stated, "Buffy may be gone, but the Slayer is in Sunnydale."  
  
"Huh?" the Scoobies said at once.  
  
"As soon as I'm released from the hospital, I'll take care of finding Buffy. But for now, we have Faith."  
  
"Faith in what?" asked Oz.  
  
"Not what, whom. Faith is here, and for better or worse, she's our only hope in keeping Sunnydale safe."  
  
Xander chimed in, "I'm guessing Faith is."  
  
"Kendra's replacement, yes."  
  
"That was fast."  
  
"Yes, well, why do tomorrow what you can do today?"  
  
Night fell on Sunnydale. Out of the inky blackness, a black stretch limousine cut through the night time traffic, making it's way toward a Happy Burger fast food restaurant. The limo glides into the drive thru lane, stopping at the menu board. The completely darkened windows rolls down to reveal a slender black man, apparently in his late thirties, wearing an expensive suit. To his right sits a dark figure, completely obscured by shadow.  
  
The speaker at the menu board squawks to life, "Welcome to Happy Burger, may I take your order?"  
  
"Diet soda, medium."  
  
"That'll be 89 cents at the drive thru window, sir."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The man, known only as Mister Trick, leans back towards his mysterious associate as the vehicle made its way to the window. "Sunnydale. Town's got quaint. And the people? He called me 'sir'. Don't you just miss that? I mean, admittedly, it's not a haven for the brothers, you know, strictly the Caucasian Persuasion here in the Dale. But, you know, you just gotta stand up and salute their death rate. I ran a statistical analysis, and hello darkness. It makes D.C. look like Mayberry, and ain't nobody saying boo about it. We could fit right in here. Have us some fun", he said as he counted out his change.  
  
"I've been here before, a long time ago. Nothing's changed. It still reeks of humanity, overpowering the sweet smell of the Hellmouth."  
  
"My brother, according to what you told me, you was here last week."  
  
"Doesn't matter, all I want is to tear this place apart until I get my hands on the Slayer. I have this urge to repay her for what she did to me."  
  
"Chill, man. You'll get that chance. But we gotta lay low for a spell, get situated, establish our power base. Otherwise, we gonna end up like the cat I used to work for. Staked by a rookie slayer and her bookworm watcher."  
  
"Kakistos was staked by the new slayer? The one who replaced the Jamaican girl?"  
  
"Yeah man, real quick too. Like he was some chump. Which he was, but that's not the point. Point is, we need to be ready. Then we take her on."  
  
"That'll be 89 cents, sir", said the drive thru attendant. Trick handed the man his change, and received his soda. He turned to his associate. "You sure you don't want anything?"  
  
"I want to tear the Slayer limb from limb, and suck the marrow from her bones. After I make her watch what I do to her friends."  
  
"Damn, now I'm hungry." With that, Trick morphed into his game face, reached out and grabbed the drive thru attendant. He sucked the man dry as the limo sped away. Once he was finished, he dumped the body on the street and looked back at his associate. "Where to now?"  
  
"City Hall. I learned a few things about this town when I was here last. Things that the Slayer doesn't even know. Like who really runs the show."  
  
"And that is."  
  
"Richard Wilkins III, Mayor of Sunnydale."  
  
"Now, why is that so hard to believe?"  
  
"Appearances are deceiving, my friend. Driver?"  
  
"Yes, milord?"  
  
"City Hall, best speed. I have an appointment with destiny."  
  
"Right away milord."  
  
Some minutes later, the limo pulled up to City Hall. The two associates exited the vehicle, Trick donning a stylish trench coat and his associate wearing a black robe with the hood pulled over his head, and made their way inside. Security guards attempted to stop them, only to be slaughtered by the duo. They reached the Mayor's office when the Deputy Mayor Allan Finch stepped in front of them. He swallowed nervously and said, "Do you gentlemen h-have an appointment?"  
  
"Why don't you make one for us?", said Trick, grinning evilly as his game face slid into being.  
  
"Uhm, I-I'm sorry, but the Mayor cannot be disturbed r-right now. I-if y- you make an ap-pp-ppointment for tomorrow, I'm sure he'd b-be g-glad t-to see you."  
  
The associate leaned in close to the Deputy Mayor and whispered, "Let us in or feel pain of the likes you have never felt before."  
  
Just then, the intercom on the desk outside the Mayor's office buzzed. Finch nervously looked over to it and pushed the button. "Allan! If those two gentlemen are in such dire need to see me, then by all means, send them in!"  
  
Allan had a look of relief on his face. He looked to Mr. Trick and said, "The Mayor will see you now."  
  
Trick walked right up to the Deputy Mayor and, with a blur of speed, snapped the man's neck. As the body hit the floor, Trick looked down at it and merely said, "Chump."  
  
Upon entering the Mayor's office, the first thing that Trick noticed was the smell. It was antiseptic, almost as if the Mayor was working in a sterile environment. Then he was struck by the sight of the office. It was a clever hodgepodge of bright cheerful everyday life, and hidden dark underbelly. In closets that were no doubt closed during daytime, there were demonic artifacts, remnants of human and demon bodies and other disturbing knick knacks. At least disturbing to a normal person. To Trick and his associate, they were.interesting.  
  
"You know, it's a shame you had to kill Allan and all those other fine people. They were just doing their jobs. I mean, its not like I was going to let them live after my Ascension anyway, but I digress. So, how can I help you gentlemen?"  
  
You can help us by dying", stated Trick, game face still on.  
  
"Oh, ha ha, that's very amusing, Mr.."  
  
"Trick, my name is Mr. Trick, and my associate is.", he held off, allowing his associate to introduce himself.  
  
"I was thinking you could call me.Master. For the thirty seconds before you die, that is."  
  
"Oh, now that is really funny. Do either of you know who I am?"  
  
"Yes. I know who you are. And what you are. And that you aren't invulnerable, yet. So, in my book, that makes you meat. And since my book is the only one that matters." The associate lifted back his hood, revealing his features. He had dark, almost black eyes that seemed to stare through the Mayor. His hair was a similar color, tousled spikes pointing every which way. His face was striking, very handsome, almost as if he was from Heaven. Heaven. The word sprang forth in the Mayor's mind. He knew this person, this vampire. "I know who are you", said the Mayor, fear growing within him, "You're Ang-gahhh!!!" he screamed as the vampire attacked him, shifting to his game face, golden eyes and feline facial features. As he began shredding the Mayor like so much cardboard, Mr. Trick merely remarked, "Whoever named you had a great gift for irony, my brother. Damn!"  
  
"That name will NOT be spoken again! That chapter is closed! There's no prophecy, no hidden text that'll explain everything! I'm writing this book! I choose the names, and for me, I choose.Azrael!"  
  
" 'The Islamic Angel of Death, forever writing in a large book and forever erasing what he writes: what he writes is the birth of man, what he erases is the name of the man at death.' Man, that is beautiful! You one well read bloodsucker, my brother."  
  
"I thought you'd approve. Now, let's work on that 'power base' of yours. See if we can bring some Hell to the Hellmouth."  
  
"True that, my brother."  
  
The television was on, but Giles could barely hear it. His thoughts were a maelstrom, his head unfocused. Buffy was gone. What could possibly cause her to leave. She was at terms with the loss of Angel, and she was determined to stop Angelus. Giles began to focus on that. Angel. Angelus. They had been unsuccessful in restoring Angel's soul earlier that evening, but what if they tried again. Xander hadn't said anything about that, but would he? He was against it from the beginning. What if Buffy had to send Angel to Hell, soul and all? Could that have been what drove her to leave all she had known and loved? "Oh, my. I must ask Willow", he said to himself. Now focusing on his surroundings, he turned his attention to the news on the television. What he saw there made him wish that he'd stayed oblivious.  
  
"This just in, the Mayor of Sunnydale, Richard Wilkins III, and most of the City Hall staff, including Deputy Mayor Allan Finch, are dead. Police believe a street gang, high on PCP, stormed City Hall last night and embarked on a vicious killing spree. Witnesses to the massacre report that the bodies of the people inside looked like they were mauled by animals. The City Council has called an emergency meeting to assess the situation and elect a temporary Mayor until special elections can be held later this month. For more information on this breaking story, stay tuned all day as we will be giving updates as they become available or log onto our website, www.kytv.com/breakingnews.htm for to-the-minute updates. And now a word from our sponsors."  
  
"Oh dear."  
  
To Be Continued. 


	5. Annie Get Your Gunn

It was 10:30 on a Friday night in Los Angeles, and the Whisky a Go-Go was packed to capacity. Amid the throng of bodies was a pair of lonely hearts trying desperately to enjoy themselves. The girl wore a leather mini with knee high boots and thigh high stockings, with a white silk blouse to top it off. Her hair, shorter than she normally kept it, was still blonde, but her brown roots had been showing for weeks. A few months ago, she would have cared, but now, now was a different story. Her companion looked the same as usual. He wore his trademark leather duster, covering a blood red silk shirt with black pinstripes, beneath that a black tee shirt. He sported black Levi's 501 jeans, bloused into a pair of old style military issue combat boots. His bleached platinum blond hair was still immaculately colored, but the style was slightly different. Instead of slicked back, it was tousled, allowing his natural curls to show through. He reached into his duster pocket and retrieved his Marlboros and Zippo. As he put a smoke between his lips and prepared to light it, a bouncer approached him.  
  
"Hey, you can't smoke that in here! County Ordinance!" the bouncer exclaimed over the music.  
  
"Bugger off, you bleedin' ponce!" replied Spike as he lit his cigarette. The bouncer started to reach toward the smoke, when he was suddenly stopped by Buffy. "I'm pretty sure he told you to get lost", she said, letting a little bit of her Slayer strength come through.  
  
"Actually, I said bugger off, but th' meanin's th' same."  
  
"Whatever. Go away, before he hurts you", Buffy said, pushing the bouncer away. The bouncer retreated quickly, trying to restore feeling in his arm. Spike looked to Buffy with an amused look on his face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm certain I would've killed th' git, luv", he said, an evil grin spreading across his face.  
  
"Nope, wouldn't have happened."  
  
"And why is that, Slayer?"  
  
"I would've stopped you like I always do. And don't call me that. It's not who I am anymore."  
  
"Right, I forgot. So sorry, 'Anne'. Didn't mean to drag up old bones."  
  
Buffy sighed. She couldn't win with Spike. He wouldn't even alter his appearance or change his name, to help them blend in, to stay out of the spotlight. No, Spike craved the attention. He knew full well that he couldn't smoke in the Whisky or any other LA club. He did it just to get a response. It was kind of endearing, really. Ever since she became the Slayer, Buffy had become accustomed to being in the shadows. Even her choice of friends, while strong and supportive, were on the outside looking in as well. But Spike didn't look in. He kicked in the door, pulled up a seat right in the middle of it all, made out with the prettiest girl, flipped the bird to everyone, and did it with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. He was.charming, in a perverse, 'I'm a vicious, bloodsucking demon' sort of way. Still, he was dangerous. Which was why Buffy had resigned herself to spending night after night out on the prowl with him, making sure that he didn't cross the line. She knew she couldn't stop him from feeding, but she could stop him from killing. Which she had done on several occasions.  
  
"So, pet. You ready to go? Or would you like to hang about some more?" Spike leaned in closer to her, standing almost right on top of her.  
  
"We are so leaving, Spike. You keep baiting these guys, trying to get into a fight. That kind of goes against the 'laying low'. Or did you forget that my mother and my friends are no doubt looking for me? Because if I need to remind you what will happen if they find you anywhere near me, I will. It involves Mr. Pointy and a certain 'Big Bad' going poof."  
  
"Poof? There's no bleedin' way a wooden stake would make me a Nancy- boy.oh, right, you mean th' other poof."  
  
"Are you trying to annoy me? Or could you possibly be that dense?"  
  
"Well.Yeah, definitely tryin' to annoy you. Am I succeedin'? 'Cause I can be a lot more annoyin'. Dead cert."  
  
"God, you're infuriating!! Let's go!" Buffy grabbed Spike's arm and dragged him from the club. They'd spent enough time out, it was time to go back to Spike's safe house. They left in a hurry, not paying attention to their surroundings. If they had, they might have noticed three people following them out into the night.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The trip back to Spike's safe house was in silence for all of 3 minutes. Spike turned his stereo on, cycled through his CD's and finally decided on Black Flag!. As Henry Rollins' anger filled voice cut through the silence like a knife, Buffy turned to him and asked, in a 'sweetly pissed off' voice, "What, are you tired of Johnny Rotting and Joe Romano?"  
  
"That's Johnny Rotten an' bleedin' Joey Ramone an' you'd best see fit to not be disparagin' my bloody taste in music! An' for th' record, Black Flag! was instrumental in the LA punk movement. Most of th' 'edgy' bands o' today owe their very soddin' existence to Henry Rollins. Man's a friggin' genius. An' it's a lot better than that 'bubblegum' crap I catch you watchin' on the telly. 'NSYNC*?! What exactly are they in sync with? Certainly not each other. An' the Backstreet Boys? Th' back streets o' where? Bleedin' Disneyland?! Puh-lease. Bloody Nancy-boys, the lot o' 'em, I'd stake my reputation on it."  
  
"Uh, Spike?"  
  
"No interruptions, I'm rantin' here. You know whose fault it is? Kurt bloody Cobain, that's who. He goes an' gets all famous, an' he goes 'Oh, the fame is too bloody much. I know. I'll off myself.' Yeah, good plan. Now all the twelve year olds are even more depressed, so they want cheerin' up. An' you know who's there for 'em in their hour o' bleedin' need? The bleedin' lollipop gang, that's who."  
  
"SPIKE!"  
  
"WHAT!"  
  
"Vampires!"  
  
"What about 'em?"  
  
"There are vampires attacking that couple in the alley!"  
  
"Yeah, so what? That's what vamps do, luv."  
  
"Hello? 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' ring a bell?"  
  
"Oh, NOW you're 'Buffy the soddin' Vampire Slayer'. What happened to 'Anne the completely normal bleedin' bird'? She go on bloody holiday?"  
  
"Spike. Stop. The. Car."  
  
"Oh, bloody Hell! There goes my reputation!" Spike stopped the DeSoto, then followed Buffy into the fray. There were five vampires, four male and one female, surrounding the frightened man and woman, but only one of them noticed the rapidly approaching Buffy. He started to warn his cohorts, only to receive a stake in the heart for his trouble. His exploding into ash alerted the others that there was trouble. They backed away from the man and woman, trying to figure out their situation. The man and woman stood right where they were, paralyzed with fear until Buffy shouted, "Run! Get away from here, now!!" Only then did they make their escape.  
  
"Hey!" shouted one of the male vampires, who by his appearance seemed to be the leader. He stepped forward, game face on, eyes glaring. "Not only did you cost us dinner, you killed Armand! For that, you must suffer!"  
  
"Oh, please. 'Armand'? Let me guess, you're Lestat, right? No, don't answer that, 'cause I think I'd laugh myself to death." Buffy strode forward, stake at the ready. "Okay, kids. Single file lines. Plenty of time to ride this ride. Now who's first?"  
  
The lead vampire, apparently not too dumb, stepped back, allowing his cohorts to leap forward. The two males went after Spike, while the female snapped a flurry of kicks at Buffy, who dodged all with ease. The female snorted, then swung a roundhouse punch, which Buffy ducked, then moving closer, slipped under her guard and rammed her stake home. Not even pausing to watch the female dissolve into ash, she turned to help Spike, who really didn't need any. The two males spent most of their time getting each others way, allowing Spike to slip by and grab at a broken wood crate. Snapping off two pieces of wood, he strode back into the fray, pausing to put a cigarette between his lips. "C'mon, y' ponces, I'm right bleedin' 'ere!" he yelled, as he casually lit up the smoke. The two males, infuriated by Spike's lackadaisical attitude towards them, charged as one. Their mistake, for as they charged, Spike merely held up a makeshift stake in each hand. Not realizing their mistake in time, the two vampires impaled themselves with a look of shock on their rapidly dissolving faces. "That's th' problem with kids today", Spike said, taking a long drag off his cigarette, "so impatient."  
  
The vampire leader began to back off, completely caught flat footed by what had just happened. In the space of two minutes, he had gone from a five to one advantage to a two to one disadvantage. He thought about his situation for all of a second before deciding that discretion was the better part of valor. He took off as fast as he could, but before he could get ten feet away, he was struck in the back by a crossbow bolt. He dissolved into ash as he ran. Buffy and Spike spun around, ready to continue the fight. Out of the shadows emerged three figures, the same three that had followed them from the Whisky. They were young, maybe early twenties, if not younger. There were two male and one female, all three Black, and they were armed. The young man standing in the fore, apparently the leader, wore a black leather jacket that was in immaculate condition, considering the rest of his attire. Beat up combat boots, torn and dirty oversized brown cargo pants, and a simple black tee shirt made up the rest of his ensemble, along with his shaved head and wicked looking sword. The other male wore a similar outfit, only his jacket was an old LA Raiders starter brand hooded parka that had seen better days. His hair, though was meticulously braided into cornrows that ended just past his shoulders. The girl wore similar pants, but with thong underwear showing just above the waistline. She wore a half shirt, exposing her midriff, and a lightweight black windbreaker. Her hair was a halo of soft curls, pulled back by a hair band, and lightened to a soft brown. She carried a crossbow, which indicated that she fired the killing bolt. She reloaded her weapon as the trio made their way towards Spike and Buffy. The leader was about to say something when the boy in cornrows stopped him.  
  
"What are you doin', dog? Alonna dusted the fang face, let's move out and let the snowflakes forget anything happened!"  
  
"Chill, Jamal. Did you see what those two just did? They dusted four vamps. Four. And they ain't even sweatin'. Least we can do is say hi. Didn't your moms teach you any manners?" The leader approached Buffy, still on guard but relaxed. "You got some fly moves for a cheerleader, girl. An' your boy there is pretty bad ass himself."  
  
"First off, we're not 'snowflakes', and second, I was only first alternate on the cheerleading squad. Why did I just say that?" Buffy moved forward, extending her hand. "I'm.Anne. The guy's named William, but everyone calls him Spike."  
  
"Anne, huh? An' your called 'Spike'? What, you play football or somethin'?"  
  
"Nah, mate. I stick railroad spikes in people's heads fer shites an' grins. Y'know, fer sport an' all that." Spike looked at the man's stricken face, and grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "I'm jus' funnin', mate. It's a.stage name. Yeah. 'Cause me an' Annie here, we're in a band. Yeah, a punk band."  
  
"Oh. Ha ha. I get it", said the boy, not really relieved at the 'joke'. "So, you're in a band?"  
  
"Yeah, Spike and I are in a band", said Buffy, looking back at Spike with the evil eye, wishing that he could lie a little better. "I play the drums."  
  
"Hell on th' ol' skins, y'know!" added Spike.  
  
"What do you play?" asked the girl, Alonna, not believing a word she heard.  
  
"Well I sing."  
  
"Okay, that's it. We're obviously not in a band. I'm gonna shoot straight with you. We're a couple of nonentities just trying to survive in LA. Now, if you don't mind, we'll just move along. Let's go, Spike." Buffy began to move towards the DeSoto when the leader stopped her.  
  
"Hey, you don't wanna share the life story? Cool. Don't matter anyway. All I know is, you two got some moves, and you know about vampires. That alone makes you straight in my book. We do what we can, killin' vamps and the other nasties out there in the night, but you guys, you could do some real damage out there. I've been keepin' my eye on you two for a couple weeks now, figurin' that you were some new baddies, the way you two trash nightclubs. But it looks like I was wrong. We could really use your help." He gestured to his partners. "Besides Jamal and Alonna, I got fifteen guys out there. And none of them can handle themselves like you can." He pointed at Spike and Buffy. "You gotta help us out. People are dying out there. And no one cares."  
  
"Well that's great an' all, mate, but we got places t' go. C'mon, Sl.Anne. Let's go." He grabbed her hand, trying to pull her along, but she stood firm. "Pet? What are y' doin'? Let's bloody well go!!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh, bugger. Lemme guess? Are we feelin' that heroic itch again, Summers? 'Cause if'n y' are, count me out." He stalked off to the car, sliding over the hood and slipping into the driver's seat. He revved the still running engine. "You comin' or you gonna sing 'kumbayah' with th' Justice League?"  
  
"Spike, you want to leave me and break your promise? Fine. But these people are fighting a war. Just like my.friends. I couldn't help them. Maybe I can help these people. I have to do something. I just can't pretend like this kind of thing doesn't happen!"  
  
"Yes you can. You've been doin' jus' that fer two bloody months. What changed? Some vamps pop up outta nowhere, causin' a li'l chaos? Or is it th' Justice League? They bring up memories o' th' poor, pathetic Scoobies you deserted? That's it, innit? You get tired o' runnin' away? Wanna be th' Slayer again?"  
  
"Yes. I want to be the Slayer. I NEED to be the Slayer. These kids are doing MY job while I wallow in self pity. Well, I'm done wallowing. It's time to get back on the wagon."  
  
"Oh, Bloody Hell! That's jus' great! An' what about me? Did y' think 'bout that, luv? Am I jus' supposed t' up an' go all white hat, become another soddin' poofter, like Angelus?"  
  
"No, Spike. You don't have to do anything but respect my decision. I'd like you to stay with me. We've got a lot of history, especially over the last two months. But I won't try to make you deny your nature." Buffy walked over to the car, opening the passenger door. She sat on the seat. The three vampire hunters looked at the two in the car with a shared look of confusion.  
  
"Hey, you guys got some issues to sort out. We gots to go. If you wanna hook up later, I'll be at a karaoke bar downtown. It's called Caritas. Can't miss it. By the way, she's Alonna, he's Jamal, and I'm Gunn. Nice to meet you. Later." The trio walked away, discussing what had just gone on.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The two lost souls in the black DeSoto stared at each other in silence. Neither wanted to say a word, for fear of violence. Finally, Spike spoke.  
  
"You aren't ready for what this town will throw at you, Slayer. It's dark, an' scary, an' ."  
  
"What, and Sunnydale was a paradise? C'mon, Spike. I need to do this. These kids need me, and they need you too."  
  
"Oh, no. Y' seem t' forget, Slayer. I'm a big, nasty vampire. Evil, remember? They're walking happy meals t' me. I don't care if they need me. I need lunch, do they come runnin', satin' 'Here Spike, feed on me!'? No! So why would I give two shites 'bout what they need?"  
  
"You care about what I need."  
  
"No, I don't. We 'ad a bloody deal. We took th' most important part o' our lives from each other, so we agreed t' stick together fer a while. A couple o' months, if I recall. Never once did I say I wanted t' be yer soddin' bosom buddy. It's been a couple o' months, an' it looks like y' got yourself a new raison d'etre. Y' don't need me. An' I sure as Hell don't need t' be killin' my own kind. Think o' what would happen t' my reputation. Bad enough what happened in Sunnyhell, don't need it followin' me down here."  
  
"Spike, that's crap. You don't care what anyone thinks of you. You've never cared! What happened to 'Oh, I'm th' Big Bad. Ain't no one tellin' me what t' soddin' do.'? You know most of the nasties out there want to see this world burn. That means no more happy meals, no more Leicester Square, no more anything! Those kids can't stop every creep, vamp and boogieman out there. Hell, even with me helping them, they don't stand a chance. You could make a difference. You could leave your mark on this world. Angel needed to get his soul back to want to save the world. You could do it to spite everyone. Help me and it'll be like spitting in the face of authority. You'd be the rebel you always say you are. Help me. Be the Big Bad. Be a hero. Be MY hero." She looked at him with tears in her eyes. She needed him to stay with her. She knew she needed to save lives. She had to be the Slayer. She had to be the Champion of mankind again, but she needed a champion of her own to help her deal.  
  
Spike looked at her intently. He studied her pained face, looking for that vibrant, powerful force of nature he had fought all those months ago at the high school.  
  
"Well, Spike? What's it gonna be? Leave me and be just another vampire, or stay, fight the good fight, and be something special?"  
  
"Bollocks."  
  
"I'm sorry, I left my bad English translation dictionary in my other imaginary purse. Could you tell me when 'bollocks' became a yes or no answer?"  
  
"You're full o' shite, an' y' know it, Summers. Don't lay all that 'be a hero, save th' world' crap on me. You want me t' stick around, tell me why. An' I want th' bleedin' truth, not some cockamamie Savior riff, 'cause I don't wanna hear it!"  
  
Buffy gaped at Spike, not knowing what to say. He called her bluff. He had no aspirations of heroism, and she knew it. She just needed him. But how to say that to him, that was the problem.  
  
"Well? I'm bloody waitin', Slayer. Convince me. Tell me why I should turn my back on my kind, an' help you kill th' lot o' 'em. Anytime now. Sun'll be up in a five hours, an' I would like t' be in th' safe house by then. D' ya even 'ave an answer? No, I wager y' don't."  
  
"I DO!" Buffy began to cry even harder. Loud sobs came choking forth from her, almost making her convulse. Even then, she was shaking. It was like when Angel was gone all over again. Angel. All over again. Realization came across Spike like a shadow, darkening his features.  
  
"He'd want you to keep fightin', wouldn't he?" Buffy nodded. "It's what THEY'D want to, innit?" Another nod. "But you can't do it, not alone, not like this?" Another nod. "An' since you can't do it alone, you figure that 'Hey, Spike's not doin' much but beatin' up bouncers', well, actually, you've been beatin' up th' bouncers, but I've been startin' th' flamin' fights, but I digress. You figure that I'm not doin' any o' th' bad nasty stuff that vamps do, I've been drinkin' pig's blood, or what I can nick from blood banks, an' not killin' people, so maybe I had some epiphany, jus' woke up one night an' said 'I wanna be good for th' Slayer.'? Well, no such luck, pet. I'm still evil, jus' layin' low. An' I've been doin' that for your sake, not mine. If it was jus' me, I'd be runnin' this town. An' those kids? Breakfast, lunch an' supper, right there. What d' ya think o' that?"  
  
"I.I think.I think you're a monster." Buffy wiped the tears from her face as she regained her composure. "That's never changed for me, you bastard." She drew herself up, feeling stronger with every word. "You're a killer. Stone cold killer, and I keep letting you live. I should have staked you after what you did to Angel. Drusilla be damned. That skanky ho got what she deserved. And you know what? I'm NOT sorry she's dead. I'm happy! I'm so ecstatic that I got some sweet revenge for Kendra. SHE didn't deserve to die, especially how she died. It wasn't fair, which as far as I can see is your ONLY redeeming value, your fairness. I should've staked you and been done with the whole damn Order of Aurelius! Then I should've just gone home, got grounded by my mother, and gotten ON with my life! But NO! I get so traumatized by the fact that the only man I've ever really loved is gone forever, that I shack up with his psychotic grandson! And now, I'm so screwed up, I go and try to convince you to become a good guy, a HERO, just so I make believe that I have everything I gave up! I'm sick and pathetic! I'm.I'm just LIKE YOU!"  
  
"Right then. Shall we go?"  
  
"WHERE!?"  
  
"To that karaoke bar th' kid was talkin' 'bout. What was his name? Gunn. He said t' meet 'im at Caritas once we dealt with our issues. An' I think we did."  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm gonna help you."  
  
"Help me what?"  
  
"KILL BLEEDIN' VAMPIRES! What else would I be doin' goin' with you to that place? Singin'?"  
  
"But you said."  
  
"I told you t' convince me. An' y' did."  
  
"But.your reputation? What about all that stuff you said to me?"  
  
"I don't care what anyone thinks o' me. Y' hit that one right one th' head there. But I wanted you t' know why y' wanted t' do this. For real an' all that. You are in a real bad place in yer life. You haven't grieved. Y' jus' kept everythin' all bottled up. That's not healthy an' I think y' got a lot o' what's been weighin' y' down off o' yer chest. You understand that I'm not doin' this for me. I'm doin' this for you. I've made my peace with Dru bein' gone. Now, maybe you can do th' same for th' poof."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"You will. Jus' give it time. Now, let's go see a man 'bout some vampire slayin', shall we?"  
  
"Alright. But I want you to know, this isn't over. We have a lot to talk about."  
  
"It'll keep 'til tomorrow. Now, fasten yer seat belt."  
  
"You're a strange person, you know that."  
  
"I prefer to think o' myself as 'quirky'."  
  
"I thought you were 'EVIL'."  
  
"Yeah, well, I am. Evil. An' quirky. An' devilishly 'andsome, if I say so myself."  
  
"Strange."  
  
To Be Continued. 


	6. Songs And Visions In Hell Minor 'Anne' R...

That Same Night.  
  
"Hey you two! Glad you could make it!" Charles Gunn waved the two blondes over to his table, offering Buffy a seat next to him. "I was worried you wouldn't find the place!"  
  
"No worries there, mate", said Spike, grinning sarcastically as he sat down between Buffy and Alonna, who scooted her chair away from him. As if anyone could possibly miss the gaudy outer décor or the neon sign. The building could probably be seen from space. Of course, Buffy fell in love with the place, until she walked in. Once they had entered, the place became more to Spike's liking. Of the two hundred people inside, more than half were of the demonic persuasion. In one corner, there was a crew of vampires, in another, a couple of chaos demons, slime and antlers all too noticeable under the fluorescent lights. A virtual cornucopia of things that go bump in the night. The only thing bugging Spike was, why would vampire hunters hang out in a club that allowed vampires in the first place?  
  
Gunn seemed to read the peroxide haired vampire's mind. "It's all good, man. We come here to scope out the latest crew of baddies, figurer out their game plan, and go make them dusty. Besides, not all demons are bad. Some just wanna be left alone, and some fight the good fight, just like us. You see that guy over at the bar, drownin' himself in whiskey? That's Doyle. He's half demon, and gets these visions. It's kinda like he sees into the future and stuff. When he's not swimmin' in bourbon., he helps us. Tells us where the bad guys are, what they're doin' and who they're doin' it to." He paused, looking over his shoulder as Doyle passed out onto the bar. He cringed at the site, as if it was a common thing. "He usually just does that, though."  
  
"Yeah, that's reliable. I bet he rescues kittens from trees, too. So, where does see his visions? At the bottom of his Jim Beam bottle? Or after praying to the porcelain god?" Buffy didn't mean to sound so mean and nasty, but her mind was still trying to absorb the confrontation with Spike she had not even an hour ago. In the space of a few minutes, she had gone from nearly losing her only connection to her old life to having him embrace the idea of helping these kids fight off the vampires and other evil nasties infesting downtown LA. Not because he wanted to be a hero, but because he wanted her to be. She twirled that thought in her head, not even realizing that someone was trying to get her attention.  
  
"Anne?"  
  
"Who?" She finally snapped out of her reverie. Gunn was trying to talk to her. "Oh. Me. You mean me, who is named Anne. Yes, what's up?"  
  
"Oh, that was so smooth, Slayer. Like bleedin' Bacardi 151", snorted Spike, remembering that Buffy was absolutely no good at the secret identity thing.  
  
"Y' know, speaking of that", said Gunn, a perplexed look in his eyes, "Why does he call you 'slayer'?"  
  
"Uhm, I.uh.that's a very good question. And I have an answer. A very good one. Spectacular in fact. Just give me a minute to think of it."  
  
"Hey, it's cool. I don't need to know. When you feel ready to tell me, you will. That's how trust works. You gotta build it." He moved his seat in closer. "Tell you the truth, I didn't know what to make of you two when I first saw you on the strip. Spike would pick a fight with a bouncer or somebody's hired muscle, they'd get all up in his grill, then you come and lay the smack down on their ass. I mean, if he did the ass whuppin', I'd be like, yeah, I can dig it. Maybe he's a bad ass, or some martial arts geek tryin' to look cool for his girl. But you? C'mon. You're what? Five three? A hundred and ten pounds?"  
  
"A hundred even, buster!"  
  
"See, that's my deal. You're a little girl."  
  
"Hey! I'm not that young!"  
  
"Not what I mean. Sure, you're almost as old as I am, maybe seventeen?" She nodded in confirmation. "But you're sure as hell not Xena Warrior Princess. Hell, you ain't even Gabrielle. But you kick the hell out of three hundred pound men like they were grade schoolers, and you were the bully. So, I'm thinkin' you two gots to be bloodsuckers."  
  
Hearing what Gunn just said, Spike choked on his shot of scotch, spitting it all over the table. Recovering from his shock, he looked at Gunn with a startled look in his eyes. "Vampires? Y' thought me an'.Anne were vampires? Oh, way off base, mate. Nope, completely normal bloke an' bird, that we are, right, Summers?"  
  
"Uh.yeah. Totally normal. Plain even. Nothing special about us." Buffy began shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She knew Gunn was going somewhere with this.  
  
"Now, here's the real interesting part. You're gonna love this. Me an' my sis, plus Jamal, we follow you from the Whisky. We're pretty well set on dustin' you. Then what do you do? You go and take out four vamps without breakin' a sweat! Damn! We take out vamps, we're tired, and dirty, and we wanna go home. You two? You act like it's taking out the trash or something. So, I got a pretty good idea what a Slayer is. But I'll wait until you feel comfortable enough to tell me." He looked at Buffy and Spike's flabbergasted expressions and grinned broadly. "I live on the streets in the hood. It kinda pays to be really observant. Chill, though. I ain't interested in telling anyone about you guys. I need your help, remember?"  
  
"Slayer, I'd say th' gig is up", said Spike, looking pensive. "Y' may jus' wanna level wit' th' bloke."  
  
"Bloke?"  
  
"I'm English, deal wit' it."  
  
"So, it's cool if I call you limey?"  
  
"Do I look like bleedin' Terrence Stamp?"  
  
"Well, with that hair color."  
  
"Will you two please!!!" Buffy stood up, gripping two handfuls of her hair in frustration. "What is it with men and comparing penis sizes! Gawd! You two are worse than Xander and Angel." Buffy's voice trailed off, new tears pouring down her face. "Oh, great! Crying again. How many tears do I have left to shed?" she thought, wiping her face on her sleeve. She went to sit back down, not noticing that her chair had been knocked back. She stumbled, and almost fell when a pair of hands caught her just in time. She looked over her shoulder to see who her savior was.  
  
"I dinna ken 'bout you, luv, but I'm thinking that would've been a nasty spill." Francis Doyle helped Buffy to her feet, then slid her seat back into place. "Why don't ye try sittin' down again, gorgeous." Buffy sat down, startled by the fact that not even five minutes ago, Doyle was completely passed out. And from the look on Gunn and Spike's faces, they didn't even see him move. Doyle looked at Gunn, cracked a small smile, and grabbed an unoccupied chair, seating himself between Spike and Alonna, who looked relieved for all of two seconds before scooting her chair some more.  
  
"So, Gunn, are ye goin' to introduce me to your new friends or what?" Not waiting for Gunn to say a word, he stuck his hand out to Spike. "Name's Doyle. Official Spokes being for the PTB."  
  
Spike stared at the hand for a moment, then, shrugging, shook the Irishman's hand quickly. He then looked at Doyle with a look of perplexion. "Th' PTB'? Wha's that? Poorly-dressed Tanked Blokes?"  
  
"Ha! He's got a sense o' humor! I like him already! No, Billy boy, it stands for Powers That Be. The big kahunas for the forces of good and all that. Something I'm fairly sure you have no clue of."  
  
"An' wha's that supposed to mean, y' bloody wanker?!" asked Spike angrily. Then he did a double take. "What did you call me? I didn't introduce myself. How do you know my name?"  
  
Doyle just grinned, then startled himself with a loud burp. "Uhm, sorry, what were ye sayin', boyo?"  
  
"How d' you know my bleedin' name, mate?"  
  
"Oh, well, I know lots o' things about ye and the girl. The PTB lets me know these sorts o' things."  
  
"An' what sorts o' things do these 'Powers' tell ye?"  
  
"Nothin' I'm sure ye want repeated, o' that I'm sure. Now, where's the bourbon? I feel like drinking some more!"  
  
A green hand appeared on Doyle's shoulder, settling him down. "Now, Francis. I'm pretty sure you've had more than enough tonight hon." The owner of the hand, a green skinned demon with red eyes and hair, plus vestigial horns on his temples, moved around Doyle and made his way to another empty chair, sitting lightly. He wore an extravagant burgundy suit with matching tie, with low quarter shoes impeccably polished. He smiled at Buffy, holding out his hand.  
  
"Hello there, sweetness. I'm Lorne, the Host of Caritas. I hope your evening is going well?" Buffy shook his hand lightly, a peculiar look on her face. "Is this guy for real?", she thought to herself. "He's like a cartoon character or."  
  
"Or what? Something out of Xander Harris' comic books?" asked Lorne, waggling his eyebrows. Buffy snorted out a laugh, then her eyes grew wide.  
  
"How did you do that?"  
  
"Dollface, I'm what's called an Anagogic. I read people like people read books. Just sitting here, I can catch vague feelings and the occasional thought, but I can get a complete picture of what you are and where you're going if you do one thing for me. And trust me, you need to know where you're going, especially if you're gonna associate with William the Bloody over here", he jerked his thumb in Spike's direction. Buffy's eyes followed the motion, watching as Spike pestered Doyle for more information, then giggled as the drunken Irishman vomited on his boots. Spike looked like he was going to kill Doyle, but then shrugged, and grabbed a bottle of single malt off of a passing waitress' tray. He chugged the bottle like there was no tomorrow, eliciting stunned glances from everyone at the table. The waitress looked to Lorne with a pissed off expression on her face, but Lorne gestured with his right hand, seemingly signaling for her to drop it. The waitress nodded and went back to the bar. Lorne turned back to Buffy, looking at her with one eyebrow cocked.  
  
"You have a peculiar sense of humor, peaches", he commented, instantly regretting it as he saw Buffy's face fall.  
  
"Spike used to call Angel that", she said.  
  
"Hey honey, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring you pain. I'm here to help you. You have a decision to make, and I need you to do just this thing for me so I can show you the paths to follow."  
  
"What do you need me to do?" asked Buffy, intrigued by the demon's words.  
  
"Sing for me."  
  
"Sing for you?"  
  
"Sing for me."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I can't believe I'm doing this", Buffy thought to herself as she haltingly approached the stage, karaoke book in hand. Lorne followed her up to the stage front, then stopped.  
  
"This is where I get off, buttercup. You gotta spread your wings on your own. Pick something that sings to you when you see it. You'll do fine." With that being said, he retreated back towards their table, where Spike and Doyle were apparently playing 'Can You Top This' with their dueling whiskey bottles. Gunn had turned his chair towards the stage, watching Buffy intently. Lorne settled down next to him, waving Buffy onto the stage. She looked down into the book, positive that if she stared at it long enough, she could convince Lorne that she couldn't find anything she wanted.  
  
"Damn", she said. Right there on the first page, it called out to her, just like Lorne said it would. She had played this song again and again back when she first lived in LA, before her parents divorced, before becoming the Slayer. She thought it applied to her life back then, because of the title, but now.now the lyrics fit her life.  
  
"Might as well get it over with", she thought to herself as she brought her selection to the DJ, who looked up at her with a sympathetic look in his eyes.all three of them.  
  
"You sure you want to do this song?", he asked as he handed her the microphone, "It's pretty sad."  
  
"Yeah, it's this one. It's what I gotta do." She moved back towards center stage with microphone in hand. The DJ loaded up the track. The monitor at center stage blinked to life with the track information, 'Ode to My Family', in the Style of The Cranberries. The lyrics appeared in red against the black screen, as a countdown started from five.four.three.two.one. The lyrics began to turn gold. Buffy began to sing:  
  
Do, do do do, do, do do do  
  
Do, do do do, do, do do do Do, do do do, do, do do do Do, do do do, do, do do do  
  
Understand the things I say Don't turn away from me Cause I spent half my life out there You wouldn't disagree D'you see me, d'you see Do you like me, do like me standing there D'you notice, d'you know Do you see me, do you see me Does anyone care?  
  
Unhappiness, where's when I was young And we didn't give a damn Cause we were raised To see life as fun and to take it if we can My mother, my mother she hold me Did she hold me, when I was out there? My father, my father he liked me Oh he liked me, does anyone care?  
  
Buffy looked around the club as she waited for the second verse to begin. Everyone had devoted their attention to the stage. If it wasn't for the music playing, the club would be completely silent. Even Spike was staring at her. But unlike the others, like Gunn, who were transfixed on her, feeling her pain, Spike's face was completely unreadable. He just.stared at her. She averted her eyes, focusing back on the monitor as the second verse began:  
  
Understand what I've become It wasn't my design And people everywhere think Something better than I am But I miss you, I miss Cause I liked it, cause I liked it When I was out there D'you know this, d'you know You did not find me, you did not find Does anyone care?  
  
Unhappiness, was when I was young And we didn't give a damn Cause we were raised To see life as fun and to take it if we can My mother, my mother she hold me Did she hold me, when I was out there? My father, my father he liked me Oh he liked me, does anyone care?  
  
Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care?  
  
Do, do do do, do, do do do  
  
Do, do do do, do, do do do Do, do do do, do, do do do Do, do do do, do, do do do  
  
Do, do do do, do, do do do  
  
Do, do do do, do, do do do  
  
Buffy took in the view from the stage. Everyone in the club, human and demon, was still transfixed on her. For the most part, tears flowed freely, as they all felt her pain. Buffy was thankful for that, as she didn't have a single tear left in her body. Then, a sound caught her attention. It started with Gunn, and the Host, as they slowly brought their hands together. Others joined in, and soon, Buffy was the recipient of a standing ovation. Even Doyle was bawling like a baby, and holding his head like he was in.immense pain. Buffy jumped off the stage and ran towards him, pushing her way through the crowd. She came up to Doyle just as he recovered from the pain. He began to chug down more whiskey. Buffy tore the bottle from his hand.  
  
"Doyle, what's wrong? Are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, I'm just fine! Ye gotta love how th' PTB sends their little messages. Visions. Powerful visions, full o' detail. 'Course, they hurt like hell. Hence th' bourbon." He grabbed the bottle back from Buffy, taking another long swig. "This one's a doozy, too. I saw a girl, her name's.Mushroom? Or, it was. She's a flower now. An' I saw you, holding a female vampire hostage, threatening.him." He pointed at Spike, who was still staring toward the stage. "Mushroom-flower girl's in Hell, I think. Or, at least a hell dimension, I can't be sure."  
  
"Hell? She's in Hell?" Buffy blanched at the thought. She had to do something about this.  
  
"No, she's not.yet. My visions predict th' future. We have time to stop this, if'n yer able."  
  
"You're damn right I'm able! Gunn, you wanna go kill stuff?"  
  
"I'm down. Alonna, you and Jamal head back to the safe house. Tell Chainz and the others I'll be back soon."  
  
"But, Charles, you need back up! Ain't no way I'm leaving here without-"  
  
"Chill. Right now. Just do what you're told. I'll be fine. I got Anne, Doyle and Spike with me. That's all the back up I'll need. Go home."  
  
"Fine, but if get dead, I'm kickin' your ass!" Alonna stood up, and stepped to Buffy. "If he gets killed, you get killed. Got me, snowflake?"  
  
"I got you. Now you get me. No one dies on my watch. Not now, not ever again!" Buffy spun away from a shocked Alonna and strode over to Spike. "How about it, killer? Wanna dance?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"What, are you bloody deaf? I said no. D'you need me t' spell it for you?"  
  
"But Spike, I need you. You promised me! You gave your word! What happened to William Bennett not being a welcher?"  
  
"William Bennett died 118 years ago. 'Sides, I made that promise to a girl I thought needed to be who she was again. Then I see that, that performance of yours. You're still pinin' away for the poof. You 'aven't made any progress at all! I thought that's what all o' this was about, you an' me getting' past our mutual pain. Look at me. D'you see me bawlin', mewlin' about like some pathetic sod, moonin' over my dear lost Drusilla? No! I got over it! Now its your turn, Slayer. Get over it."  
  
"Actually", interjected Lorne, "she did."  
  
"What are you talkin' about? She was just up there, all 'do you see me' an' all that rot." Spike got into the Host's face. "It seems t' me that she's refusin' t' let it go. I can't deal with another broken doll. Not again."  
  
"Spikey, have you heard of a thing called catharsis?"  
  
"Yeah, I bloody well have, an' never call me 'Spikey' again."  
  
"Well, sugar, she just had herself a catharsis. She's purged, so to speak."  
  
Buffy looked at the Host quizzically. Catharsis? Purged? One song on a stage is all it took to help her move on from the pain she felt.the pain. It wasn't there anymore. She still felt the grief, but it wasn't agonizing any more. It was a memory. The past. And now, she had to deal with her future.  
  
"Spike, he's gone. He's never coming back. That's what you want to hear from me, right? Well, there, I said it. Angel is dead. Dead to the world, and dead to me. I'm over it. Are you? Or do you need to cry like a wittle baby?" She stood before him, arms akimbo, the resolve showing on her face.  
  
Spike smiled broadly. Finally, Buffy was back. The only Slayer in his entire existence to kick his ass was awake and ready. "Luv, let's go kill naughty evil things!" He took off in a flash, dragging Doyle along by the arm. He looked back at Buffy and Gunn. "Let's go kill that evil! C'mon!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Doyle guided the makeshift team to the location of the portal; a shelter called the Family Home. Buffy made a nauseous face at the sight.  
  
"Hiding a portal to Hell, and abducting people, in a homeless shelter for teens. This is sick. I'm killing SO many demons!" She went to kick in the door, only to be held back by Gunn.  
  
"Chill for a sec, Anne. Let's not just go in there half-cocked, 'cause there's probably innocent people in there. We don't want to hurt anyone innocent." He walked up to the door and knocked. "Let's do like we're expected to, and ask for shelter."  
  
"Oh, that's good plannin', mate. Why don't we just get on our hands an' bloody knees", Spike paused as the door opened to reveal a pleasant faced man in his thirties and a girl wearing a sackcloth robe, "and repent all our sins, 'cause we're dirty, dirty people!"  
  
"Can I help you people? I was just going to redeem Lily here. If you wait in our common area for a few minutes, I'll be right with you. Were you referred here by the blood bank on second avenue?" The man moved away from the entrance, allowing the crew to pass by. "I'm Ken, by the way." Everyone had walked in except for Spike, who lingered at the threshold.  
  
"Uhm, 'xcuse me, mate, but is this a private residence, or a public building?"  
  
"Public building. All who need help are welcome. Why do you ask?"  
  
"No reason, mate. Jus' curious is all." Spike strolled over the threshold with a grin on his face, which puzzled Gunn. Once inside, they all introduced themselves, giving Ken falsified background information on themselves.  
  
"Well, it's good to meet you all. You've all come to the right place. I'll see you soon." Ken escorted Lily towards a door in the back of the common area. He opened the door, but before she walked in, Lily turned back toward the crew. She looked at Spike and Buffy curiously.  
  
"Do I know you two? You look really familiar."  
  
"No, I don't think so", said Buffy, who was wondering the same, since Doyle said that he had seen Lily with Buffy in the past together in his vision.  
  
"I think I've met a bint who looked a little like you, 'bout a year ago", said Spike, "your name's not th' same though. She called herself Chanterelle."  
  
"Oh, that was me! I called myself Chanterelle back then. I was hanging with a vampire cult. We almost got killed by these really mean vampires, until this girl saved us."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you met someone you might know, Lily, but we really need to get on with the redemption", Ken said as he began to pull Lily into the small room.  
  
"What's the rush?" asked Buffy, "can't she catch up with old friends?"  
  
"We have a really tight schedule", explained Ken, who was looking really frustrated.  
  
"Tight schedule? In a homeless shelter? C'mon, man, you don't expect us to buy that line of crap do you?" said Gunn, "I mean, dude, it's a homeless shelter. These peep's ain't got nothin' but time."  
  
"Look, I don't have time to argue with you people! Just stay here! Some help please!" At Ken's request, two very large men came into the room. "Keep these people here until I get back. Lily, let's go!" He pulled Lily into the room and slammed the door.  
  
Doyle ran up to the closed door. He tried to open it, but it was locked. "We need to get in here now! The portal's here, I can feel it!" He began to ram into the door, but it wouldn't budge. "A little help here!" Doyle yelled, as the men grabbed at him.  
  
Buffy and Gunn sprang into action, taking hold of the two men and throwing them off of Doyle. They regrouped quickly and rushed the two. The larger of the two came at Gunn with a right cross, which Gunn easily ducked as he got in a couple good body shots. Buffy leapt right into the other man, a flurry of punched and kicks. He was down and out quickly. Spike made his way over to the door, kicking it down in one shot. Gunn decked the larger man, then joined Buffy as she ran to the now open door. Too late, as both Ken and Lily were gone.  
  
"Where did they go?" asked Gunn.  
  
"There! Into that pool!" exclaimed Doyle as three more goons entered the room, jumping on him, Spike and Gunn.  
  
"Slayer! We'll hold off the goons, go get that girl!" yelled Spike, as he ducked a fierce roundhouse kick.  
  
"On it!" Buffy jumped into the pool, passing through the dimensional barrier.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A seeming eternity later, Buffy landed hard on her ass. As her eyes adjusted to the lessened lighting, she began to look around. All around her, she saw mineshafts, with people of varying ages working in them. It was incredibly hot, and there were demons everywhere, forcing the humans to labor for them. It was like they were in Hell. Hell. Just like where she sent Angel. Her mind began to swim around that concept. Could Angel be here? Could there be a chance? She pushed the thought from her mind, concentrating on the task at hand. She had to rescue these people. She picked herself up off the ground, dusted herself off, and began to look around. She barely made it past the first mineshaft when she ran into Ken. He struck her in the face, causing her to stumble.  
  
"Well, I see you stumbled on our little secret, haven't you Anne?" he said as he kicked at her, knocking her to the ground. "I don't see a reason to keep up my charade, do you?" He reached up to his face, peeling it back to reveal his demonic visage.  
  
"You bring kids in, kids that have nowhere else to turn, then you bring them here to work your mines. You're sick!" Buffy spat as she picked her self back up.  
  
"Oh, it gets better. Time passes here faster than in the Earth dimension. You work here a lifetime, then we throw you back, and only a few weeks have passed. It's a good deal. For us." Ken kicked Buffy in the gut, doubling her over. He followed up with a double axe handle strike to her neck, knocking her down and disorienting her. He picked her up and carried her bodily to the 'orientation' area, where a particularly ugly demon was lecturing the new workers, Lily included. Ken dropped Buffy to the ground, where two demons picked her up and made her stand in the group. The demon lecturing the group summed up his lecture.  
  
"Get this through your heads right now! You are vermin! No, less than vermin! You're nothing! Nothing at all! You work hard, you live. Anything else, you die! Understand?" There was utter silence in the group. He walked up to the first person in the group, a boy about seventeen. He stood in front of him, an axe in his hand. "You! Who are you?"  
  
"My name's-", was all the boy got out before the demon brought his axe crashing down the boy's head, splitting his skull. There were screams of alarm and horror echoing through the group. Buffy turned her head, biting back the bile rising in her throat. The demon walked down the line, asking the others the same question. They caught on quick, responding, "I'm no one.", and never looking up. The demon, very pleased with himself, sauntered over to Buffy, who kept her eyes cast down as well.  
  
"Well, now. A new arrival. Do you understand, vermin? Who are you?" Buffy slowly looked up at the demon, who was grinning maliciously. She thought about her answer for a brief second, remembering all the pain and misery that had lead her up to this point. All the pain, all the misery, but also all the joy and happiness of her life. Her friends, who had always been there for her. Giles, who was more than a Watcher, but a father who understood her completely, even when he professed never to understand her American teenaged mind. Her mother, who only told her not to come back because she had too much to deal with in way too short a time period. And all the people she saved, who got to live their lives one more day because of her, even if they never acknowledged it. All her pain was worth it, because she was worth it. At that moment, 'Anne' faded away. She died so that 'Buffy' could live again.  
  
"Hi! I'm Buffy. The Vampire Slayer?" The demon roared and brought his axe down. Into Buffy's waiting hands. In two swift movements, she stripped the axe away from the demon and gutted it from crotch to sternum. She grabbed Lily by the hand and guided her back toward the portal, screaming to the other workers, "C'mon! I'm getting you out of here!" A sizeable portion of them, the ones who hadn't been here so long that their wills had been completely broken, followed. As they neared the portal, they ran into a group of demon guards, led by Ken.  
  
"Well, isn't this a surprise! You actually think that I'm going to let you just waltz out of here with my workers?" Ken took a menacing step forward, grinning as most of the escapees started shuffling back.  
  
"No, Ken. I expect you to die a really nasty death, and I expect to use your head for a bowling ball 'cause, well, it's got that perfect shape."  
  
"Oh, that's real cute, Anne. You don't think I've figured you out. All alone, even with that group of outcasts you showed up with. No hope, no joy. Lashing out, foolishly believing that if you save these people, you can save yourself. You're pathetic. You deserve to be here, suffering for the great god. You came to save them? You're all alone. Who's coming to save you?"  
  
"First, it's Buffy. Try to remember that for all thirty seconds you have left to live, okay? Second, not that I need saving anymore, but I'm pretty sure that's why he's here." She motioned over Ken's shoulder.  
  
"Right, I'm so naïve that I'll look over my shoulder and let you blindside me. Even if that happened, you'd never get past my guards." Without looking back, he gestured out to his sides, motioning for his guards to move forward. The only sound he heard was not the expected rushing forward of armed demons, but shuffling sounds, accompanied by the sound of flesh impacting on flesh. People were fighting right behind him and he hadn't noticed, so caught up with this girl in front of him. Slowly, he turned to discover his guards all dead, their bodies surrounding the blonde haired man that had asked about the center being a public building. He grinned at Ken, stepping into the light to reveal his demonic appearance.  
  
"You're a vampire", said Ken, disbelieving. "How can you be helping her?"  
  
"Made a promise to the lady", was all Spike said before rushing forward, slamming into Ken, and knocking him to the ground in a daze. He kicked Ken several times in the head and ribs, then turned to Buffy. "Slayer! Get those blokes an' bints out o' here! I'll hold off Jim Jones, Jr. here!"  
  
"No, Spike. I'll take care of pus face. You go."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." She smiled. Spike noticed it right away. This wasn't a broken doll trying to be brave. This was the real Buffy, back at last. He suddenly felt a pang of sorrow, realizing that soon, she would leave him behind. She didn't need him anymore. He almost began to dwell on that thought, but snapped himself out of it. He had a job to do for the Slayer, and a promise to keep.  
  
"Alright, kiddies. Out we go!" Spike sang out as he grabbed the nearest escapee, leading them to the portal.  
  
"Hey, Ken?" Buffy said as she stalked over to his downed form. "Remember when I said you only had thirty seconds to live? I lied. I'm going to enjoy watching you squirm."  
  
"It doesn't matter what happens to me. I'm just a servant of the great god Acathla. When he rises, all of you will pay for this." Buffy stared at Ken with shock. Acathla. This was the Hell that Acathla opened to. Here. Of all the dimensions to come to, she came here. She grabbed Ken by his shirt, dragging him to his feet.  
  
"Where is he!" she screamed, shaking him.  
  
"Who? Acathla? He's in your dimension, frozen in stone. But that will soon change, for our great champion has returned to your dimension to once again awaken him."  
  
"Champion? I don't care about your loser champion! Where's Angel! Is he here? Answer me!"  
  
"Will it cause you pain if I don't answer?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then let your ears burn with silence." Ken let his head drop back as Buffy dropped him back to the ground.  
  
"Hey Ken, wanna see my impression of Gandhi?" Buffy lifted the axe she still had in her possession and brought it down on his skull, splitting it. "Well, if Gandhi got really pissed off." She ran back into the pits, searching through the throngs of workers far too gone to escape when given the chance. "Angel!" she screamed, over and over as she ran through the masses, grabbing at anyone that bore the slightest resemblance. If he was here, he'd be with these people. No matter how strong he was, with the time dilation, he'd have been here for decades, if not at least a century. A hundred years of torment, never to end because of his immortality.  
  
Buffy looked for what seemed an eternity. Angel was nowhere to be found.  
  
She collapsed in a heap from the exhaustion. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She tried one last bellow, hoping to catch Angel's attention. It echoed throughout the pits. But the person who responded to it wasn't Angel, it was Spike.  
  
"Got a little worried there, pet, when you didn't pop up right behind me. Why are you callin' for Angel?"  
  
"Ken.he said, he said that this was Acathla's dimension. I thought that maybe, maybe Angel was here. That.maybe I could save him after all." She stared up at Spike, eyes screaming in pain.  
  
"Slayer, knowin' the poof, he prob'ly tried t' do what we just did an' save everyone. They no doubt staked 'im long ago. There's nothin' you can do but come home. Now up we go!" He hauled her to her feet and half dragged, half carried her to the portal. "You did good, Slayer. Time t' celebrate an' all that rot." He pushed her up through the portal, then followed her through, neither noticing the figure in the shadows, curled up in a ball.  
  
"I'm no one", he repeated over and over again, until he noticed the two blondes move past him. He looked hard at them, squinting as if he couldn't quite see them clearly. The dullness of his dark eyes faded as a light seemed to wash over them, clearing the haze of untold ages of misery. As the pair passed through the portal, he stood up. He stretched his large frame for the first time in what felt like ages. He ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it as it spiked up at his touch, tufts pointing every which way. He walked forward slowly, unsure of his legs ability to support him. He reached the portal, looking through it. He could vaguely make out the figures through the inky blackness, but one figure shined through the murk. The hair, the figure, the face and the eyes of the girl burned through his mind as he passed through the portal, bringing a name to his lips that he hadn't said in a century.  
  
"Buffy."  
  
To Be Continued. 


	7. First Day Back

The Next Day, In The Afternoon.  
  
The first day of school is always hardest on the teachers. Having to get introduced to over a hundred people who may or may not want to even be there, starting lessons while trying to knock off months of rust from the minds of the students. The situation is even harder when the teacher is new to the staff, much less new to the profession. Therefore, Rupert Giles was perfectly understanding when Wesley Wyndam-Pryce came storming into the library.  
  
"This simply will not do!! Mr. Giles, pardon my asking, but how in the Bloody Hell do you manage day to day here!!" Giles began to ask what was wrong, but Wesley continued his tirade. "The students are incorrigible!! They don't pay attention in class, they're rude and they have no sense of decency!! Especially that Alexander Harris boy, whom you see fit to lead your little assault team every night! He sits around making jokes, neglecting his studies, and worse, he sees fit to call me Wesley in class! Wesley! As if we are equals, and not student and teacher! It completely shatters my authority over the other students! And that Osborne lad, what do you call him, Oz? He sleeps! He doesn't even bother to pretend like he's reading out of the textbook, he just leans back in his chair and sleeps!! Like he doesn't even need to pay attention in class!"  
  
Giles removed his glasses, cleaning the lenses with a handkerchief, as was his custom when starting to get frustrated. He pinched the bridge of his nose before putting on his glasses again.  
  
"Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, point of fact, Oz really doesn't need to pay attention in class. He's only short a few credits before graduating. He wouldn't even be here right now, if he had gone to all those summer classes with Willow." Willow. That girl showed so much potential. He had admired the way she had completed an entire year's worth of school during the summer, allowing her to actually graduate and move on to college. Giles attempted to convince her to go to Oxford to pursue her baccalaureate, maybe even to contact the Watchers' Council to further her education, but she refused, saying that her place was here. She had only finished high school early so that she could be more of a help to Giles. At UC Sunnydale, she could tailor her own schedule to better accommodate doing research for the Scooby Gang. She had also received special dispensation from the University's Computer Science Department to work at Sunnydale High as a TA in the high school's Computer Lab, since they had found a replacement for Jenny Calendar during the summer break. When Giles had asked her why she felt it so necessary to do these things, Willow had simply responded, "I gotta help Buffy. She needs me." To this, Giles had smiled. Even gone, Buffy brought out the best in her friends, even Xander, whom Giles did put in charge of patrolling. He still remembered everything from his Halloween experience as a soldier, the only good coming of that whole fiasco, well that and Willow coming out of her shell of insecurity and shyness. Both she and Xander had really blossomed over the summer. Willow had cut most of hair off, leaving it short, maybe an inch or two above her shoulders, and dyed it flame red, as opposed to the rather mousy brownish auburn it had been for the last two years. She had also completely thrown out her old wardrobe and began wearing clothing that matched her newfound sense of confidence. Truth be told, her wardrobe looked more like what Buffy would wear, short leather skirts, hip hugging pants, crop tops. Giles wasn't too pleased with these types of clothes when it came to Buffy, thinking she should have worn more functional clothing, but with Willow, he held his tongue. He was just too proud of the girl for coming into her own to say anything that sounded like a mother hen clucking at her chicks to stay in line. It would have been hypocritical of him, considering his own college experience. Now, Xander was another story of coming into oneself. During the summer, he had begun a training regimen not unlike Buffy's. He took every martial arts class he could find, learning the different styles with an almost superhuman alacrity. His years of skateboarding had actually been an asset. He understood the concepts of balance and timing, and was able to apply these to the martial arts. He also trained regularly with Giles, Wesley and Faith, learning to mix and match the different strikes, throws, blocks and parries and blending them all into a fighting style all his own. He had also lost a lot of the weight he had gained from years of laziness, trimming himself down into a lean, toned athletic physique with a strict physical fitness regimen that the American military would be proud of. He ran in excess of five miles per day, every day, and alternated upper and lower body weight training. It was almost obsessive, but Giles permitted him to continue after he had bested Faith in their first sparring match. Both he and Wesley agreed that Faith had an utter lack of discipline, and would hopefully benefit from Xander's example. As of yet, she hadn't shown any real signs of improvement, except that she now won more sparring matches than lost. But that was solely based off of her Slayer's strength and agility. Take those away from her, and Xander would wipe the floor with her, no question. This was also the reason that Xander was in charge of patrol, which Wesley only grudgingly agreed to. Faith's arrogance and overconfidence prevented her from effectively leading a team in battle. She was more suited to solo patrol, which Wesley insisted that she be allowed to do. Giles had agreed, if only to allow Xander, Willow, Oz, and Cordelia to have normal teenage lives at least a few nights a week. Even so, they still had cellular phones that they carried everywhere, no matter what, in case trouble was brewing, so that they could be contacted at a moment's notice and move out to take care of the situation. They were a crack team, researching, fighting, and preventing all sorts of trouble that had come to Sunnydale in the absence of Buffy. It did seem strange, though. More and more threats had moved into Sunnydale in the wake of the City Hall massacre all those weeks ago. It was as if a curtain was pulled back, and revealed Sunnydale to the demon underworld. There were more vampire sightings and attacks in the last three weeks than there had been in the last year. It was curious and troubling, since no one in the Scooby Gang could figure out the reason why. It simply defied explanation.  
  
Giles was pulled from his thoughts by the library's doors opening and closing again. He noted Wesley was still griping about his first official day as a teacher, going on about Principal Snyder giving him a hard time, as he looked over his shoulder to see who had walked in. Coincidentally enough, it was Xander and Willow, joined by Oz and Cordelia, who really didn't seem to want to be there. Xander walked up to Giles, bumping Wesley, who exclaimed "Now see here!", and waved.  
  
"Hey, G-man, any word on the who's and what's of our latest Vampire High class reunion?" He grinned, the humor and wiseass remarks the only vestige remaining of the old Alexander Harris. "'Cause if you don't, we all wanna take the night off. You know, first day of school and all that. We wanna go to the Bronze and blow off some much unneeded steam." He smiled and, reaching for Cordelia's hand, continued. "I mean, Cordy only just got back from Europe two days ago. I'd like to spend some time with her. And Oz, well, between gigs with Dingoes Ate My Baby and that runaround."  
  
"Walkabout", Oz corrected.  
  
"Sorry, walkabout, he's hardly been around either. Me and Willow, well you know what we've been up to. So you cool with it? I mean, Faith could always do a solo patrol."  
  
"No, I don't think so", interrupted Wesley, "Faith did a solo patrol last night, so the rest of you could get some sleep before the first day of school, despite the fact it was going be hers as well. I forbid you to take advantage of her like that. If not for Faith, there would be no 'Scooby Gang' anymore. She's the slayer, the rest of you are just.distracters. Of no real use in the grand scheme of things."  
  
Xander fired back. "Oh, really. This coming from the guy who pissed his pants the first time a vampire attacked him. Now, I ask you guys", looking back toward the other Scoobies, "what's more distracting, our kicking demon ass or his peeing on demons?"  
  
"Not that anyone's asking me, but you're both quite distracting", murmured Giles, clearly getting fed up with the arguing. Xander and Wesley began to yell at each other when Faith walked into the library. She hair hung loosely around her face and shoulders. She wore too much makeup, as usual, and was sporting a black leather miniskirt that stopped just past her ass. She was also wearing an olive drab green tank top, tucked into the mini. She wore similarly colored socks bunched up over the tops of her Vietnam Era Jungle Boots. She had an unusually large backpack slung over her shoulder, which Giles surmised was where she kept her arsenal of weapons. Unlike Buffy, who would typically rely on her hand to hand skills and stakes, Faith had a predilection for weapons, particularly bladed weapons.  
  
"What's goin' here, Mr. G?" asked Faith. "Are Winston and Fearless Leader gonna have another catfight?" She sauntered the rest of the way in, giving Cordelia the evil eye. "What you doin' princess? Did somebody tell you that they had fashion magazines in the library? Well, they don't. Hope you're not too disappointed." Cordelia eyes went wide, shocked at the unwarranted verbal attack. Then her eyes narrowed, the Bitch coming forth.  
  
"Hey, Super Skank, didn't they tell you? Girls who'll bend over for anything with a pulse don't have to come to school until next week. That's when the Free Clinic does immunizations. Wouldn't want you to come down with an STD. Or is that another STD? I can never remember. When was your last trip to the Free Clinic, Faith? Oh, yeah. Yesterday." Cordelia was positively beaming, in full Bitch mode.  
  
"You bitch!" Faith tried to attack Cordelia, only to run smack into Xander, who held her back. Cordelia tried to jump forward and get a cheap shot, but Willow and Oz held her back.  
  
"Now, now Faith. You know you can't go killing the help. What kind of example would you be setting for all the little slayers of America?" Xander released Faith, who stood in place, anger coming off of her in waves. "Cordy, sweety, why don't you go on home. I'll call you as soon as I get back home. Okay?"  
  
"But the skeez started it!"  
  
"I know, but you need to be the bigger person, okay?"  
  
"Fine, but if she says one more thing, I'll."  
  
"Do what? Throw a tantrum, like when Daddy wouldn't buy you that island you so needed, 'cause everyone else's Daddies are buying them islands?" Faith said in a mocking tone.  
  
"Ooooooh! I hate you, you skanky tramp! I wish Buffy was still here! She'd so kick your ass!" At the mention of Buffy, Giles, Oz, Willow and Xander cast their eyes downward. Willow began to tear up. Cordelia looked around at the Scoobies, noting their expressions. "What, like you're not all thinking the same thing?! Gawd, people, let's get over the 'oh, poor us' bit. It's not like she died! She just got smart and ditched this town!"  
  
"Good job, Your Highness. Got all the Scoobies mopin' in less than five minutes. Time to call up Guinness. They're gonna want this put in the record books. Fastest killing of morale by a dimwit. You so got a talent for it."  
  
Willow stepped over to Faith somberly, wiping the just forming tears away. "Faith, you really should try to be nice to Cordelia. She's a part of the Scooby Gang, too."  
  
Faith looked bashful. "I know, but it's so much fun to get her all riled up like that. Plus it pisses Xander off, which makes it double fun."  
  
"Okay, that's it! Faith, you're on solo patrol tonight!" Xander exclaimed, completely irked by Faith's actions.  
  
Wesley stepped up to Xander, removing his glasses and cleaning the lenses absentmindedly. Xander noted this, figuring that they probably taught glasses cleaning at Watcher School, or whatever they called it.  
  
"Now, see here, young man. Faith is not your tool. She isn't a convenient thing to be used every time you and your chums get a notion of fun and decide to shirk your duties. Duties, I might add, you volunteered for."  
  
"As if I care about anything you say, Junior. You ain't even a real Watcher, yet. And you're 25. So skip the 'young man' crap, like you're my Grandpa or something. And get out of my face before I break your teeth into so many shiny pieces of ivory." Xander's hand balled into fists. Wesley refused to back down. Obviously someone would have to defuse the situation. Normally this would have been Giles, but Faith beat him to the punch.  
  
"Whoa, chill out, Xand-Man. No need to break teeth today. Relax. Count to ten, or whatever it is that hotheads like you do to relax. And Wesley? If they wanna party at the Bronze or whatever they got planned, let 'em. Means I ain't gotta deal with the crap for one more night. Trust me, you'll be doin' me a favor." She looked over at Willow and Oz. "I mean, no offense you two. You're cool. I like you guys. But if I gotta deal with Xander AND Cordelia after the first day of school? I mean, hey, there's a reason I dropped out in the first place." She knocked on her head. "Hollow. Full of rocks. At least that's what Mom always said. When she was sober, and alive." She looked down, as if noticing her boots for the first time.  
  
Willow walked over to Faith's side, taking one of her hands into her own. "Faith, you're not dumb. Don't let anyone ever tell you that. Not a teacher, or Snyder, or even a Watcher wanna be." She glared at Wesley, knowing that he had probably said something similar during on Faith's training sessions, or possibly in class today. Willow knew that it was no coincidence that Faith had ended up in Wesley's AP English class. Faith wasn't ready for that level, having been out of school for the better part of two years. That she was even in 12th grade classes was largely thanks to Willow, who made Faith go to summer school with her to catch up on missing credits. That and Willow hacked into the school's computer network, an easy trick for her, and 'adjusted' Faith's academic standing. But Wesley was so paranoid about Faith having the level of freedom that Buffy had enjoyed. He thought that Faith would try to run away as well. Which was lame, considering that Faith totally enjoyed being a slayer. She had even said, after her first patrol with the Scoobies, that slaying made her hungry and horny. She had the food handy in that voluminous backpack of hers, but the horny issue was a whole other story. She tried to get Oz to leave with her. Despite his protestations, she proceeded to drag him away. Willow stopped her, got in her face and told her off. Willow told Faith that she didn't care if she wanted to be a big slut, but there was no way she was going to let Faith lay her hooks into Oz, slayer strength be damned. Faith was impressed, to say the least. She apologized to Oz and Willow, and since then, they had been pretty cool. They had even started hanging out, just the two of them, much to Xander's chagrin. He didn't like Willow spending so much time with Faith, saying she was a bad influence. Willow disagreed, saying that SHE was influencing Faith. It was Willow who had gotten Faith to keep going to summer school, even when Faith thought it was a waste of time to teach the unteachable. Willow sympathized with Faith, who had serious self esteem issues. An absentee father and an alcoholic, now dead mother didn't make for the best nurturing environment for Faith. So Willow had made it her personal mission to help Faith develop self-respect. It was hard, given Faith's want-take-have mentality, but Willow thought she was making progress.  
  
"Faith, you are not stupid. You have a lot to offer. Okay, so the books, not your thing. But you're a born problem solver. I've seen you walk into a situation, analyze it, and take action. And it's not just the slayer stuff! You do it all the time. Like.like the math. You kick the math's ass! All the classes where you have to think intuitively, like that AP English class? You do so well, and you can grasp concepts! It's the busy work that gets you, 'cause you get so bored! Just like.her." Willow began to sob again, quietly. Faith stepped in closer to Willow and put her arms around her.  
  
"Hey, its five by five. We're cool, Red. I'm gonna patrol tonight, solo, and you guys blow off some steam at the Bronze. Everybody down with that, or should I start cracking skulls?" Everyone nodded in agreement except Wesley.  
  
"Not solo. I expressly forbid it. You are going to have backup tonight."  
  
"I can do just fine all on my lonesome."  
  
"Yes, you can. That's not the point. A Watcher's place is by his Slayer's side. Therefore, I shall go with you." As soon as Wesley said that, Xander began to snort and guffaw. "And what is so funny, Mr. Harris? A Watcher going on patrol? From what Mr. Giles has told me, he used to patrol with Ms. Summers quite often."  
  
"Yeah, but that's Giles. He can kick ass. What are you gonna do? Throw a book at the bad guys?"  
  
"I'll have you know, I've faced vampires before. When Faith and I were traveling together from Boston to here, we fought and killed several vampires. We cleared out two nests in St. Louis, and when we were staying in Washington, DC, we even vanquished a master by the name of Kakistos, though his associate, Mr..Trick, I believe his sobriquet was, got away."  
  
"Yeah, Wesley went all Batman on that ass! He can hold his own in a fight, Xand-man, unlike Prada-Girl, unless screaming and running in circles counts as kicking ass, which it don't. But that's okay, I'm sure she has her uses after wards, right?" Faith winked at Cordelia, then, raising her arms in the air, began to gyrate her hips. "Oh, yeah, a whole lotta uses! I got goose bumps just thinkin' about it! Mmmmm!" Faith shivered slightly, as if in anticipation.  
  
"Hey!" screamed Cordelia, in abject horror, "she's thinking about me, in a GAY way! Ewww! That's worse than the insults! I am so outta here! Xander, call me!" Cordelia bolted from the library, brushing past Joyce Summers as she entered. "Hi, Mrs. Summers, bye Mrs. Summers!"  
  
"Hello, Cordelia. Uhm, goodbye, Cordelia. Odd girl. Hello, Xander, Willow, Daniel." Oz smiled slightly. Joyce was the only person besides his own mother who called him Daniel.  
  
"Hey, Mrs. S.", he replied.  
  
"Hi, Mrs. Summers!" Xander and Willow said at the same time.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Summers, I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and this is Faith Evers."  
  
"'Sup. So, you're Buffy's mom, huh? Tough break, her cuttin' out on ya an' all that."  
  
"Faith! That's quite enough! No need to attack the woman!"  
  
"No, she doesn't mean any harm. If there's anything I understand these days, what with demons, Hellmouths and Vampires, it's what a girl means as opposed to what she says. It's nice to meet you, Faith. And you as well, Mr. Pryce. But I really came here to speak with Mr. Giles about Buffy."  
  
"B-Buffy? Have you heard from her?" asked Willow.  
  
"Yes, please Mrs. Summers, sit down and tell us", said Giles, pulling out a seat for Joyce.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Giles, and please, call me Joyce.."  
  
"Y-yes, Joyce. Thank you. And please, Rupert."  
  
"Alright, Rupert, Mr. Pryce, who I assume works with you as a.Watcher?"  
  
"Yes, that's right, and Faith is his Slayer."  
  
"Oh, so Faith.replaced that other girl, the one who.died?"  
  
"Yes, that's right. One Slayer dies, another is chosen."  
  
"I see. So, Buffy died? Is that how the other girl was chosen?"  
  
"Yeah, but it was only for a moment. She drowned in a pool and I brought her back with CPR", interjected Xander, afraid of where this line of conversation was going.  
  
"Oh. She never told me." Joyce looked down for a moment. She lifted her head again, wiping away tears that had just formed. "There's so much I don't know about my little girl. She didn't let me in, like she did the rest of you."  
  
"It's not your fault, Joyce. Buffy was trying to protect you", said Giles sympathetically. "You shouldn't blame yourself."  
  
"I don't, Rupert. I blame you. I blame your whole organization for everything that was so horrible for my daughter, that she couldn't tell me a word of it."  
  
"I don't think that's quite fair, Mrs. Summers. Our work is a sacred duty which must be carried out in secret, lest the forces of evil."  
  
"No, Wesley, she's completely right. It is all my fault, which is why I've dedicated myself to finding Buffy and bringing her home."  
  
"That's why I'm here. My ex-husband, he has associates with a law firm down in LA, Wolfram and Hart, and he's been using their private investigators to track down Buffy. He thinks they have a lead, but I told him I would have you follow up on it."  
  
"A lead? That's great!" exclaimed Willow, hardly containing her excitement at the possibility of Buffy coming home.  
  
"O-Of course, Joyce, I'll get right on it. What's the lead?" Giles removed his glasses, went to clean the lenses, but decided against it as he pulled out a notebook instead.  
  
"Well, an investigator spotted someone who fits Buffy's description entering a shelter last night with three men. They were only there for an hour, tops, before leaving again with a large group of street kids in rags. They took the kids to a mission on Ventura Boulevard before Buffy and one of the men left in a black car. The investigator thinks they knew they were being tailed, because the driver sped up and began to drive very erratically. He lost them soon after that, but he thinks they're staying somewhere uptown."  
  
"Wait, Buffy's shacked up with some guy?! Did I hear that right?" Xander asked, an incredulous look on his face. "You don't think.Will, the spell worked, right? You brought Angel's soul back?"  
  
Willow's face scrunched up. "Yeah, but why would they leave? I mean, okay, for a few days, maybe, to get.reacquainted?" She looked at the others, then continued. "But, for the whole summer? No. No way. Buffy wouldn't stay gone if everything was all hunky-dory. What does this guy look like?"  
  
"The descriptions kinda vague, but he's not Angel. He's not as tall, and has a slender build, from what the investigator could see.oh and he had blonde hair!" Joyce rummaged through her purse, looking for the piece of scrap paper she wrote the information down on. "Here it is!" she said as she handed it to Giles, who stood as he read the descriptions.  
  
"Hmm, yes, this fits Buffy to a tee, except the hair, but that's a simple cosmetic change. Everything else fits her. Now, this chap, 5'10", approximately 170 lbs., blonde hair.hmm, this is interesting, he wears a leather duster jacket. That should be easy enough to spot in a crowd. I mean, honestly, who wears leather dusters in the summertime?" He looked up from the notes at Xander and Willow, who blanched simultaneously. Oz merely lifted an eyebrow, which was expression of shock enough for Giles to be alarmed. "W-What is it?"  
  
"Giles, a leather duster? Who do we know that wears a leather duster? AND disappeared the same time Buffy did? With blonde hair?!" Willow asked impatiently, not believing that Giles hadn't caught on with the rest of them.  
  
"Willow, what in the bloody hell are you talking about? No one we know disappeared that day except Buffy and the.the Order of Aurelius Vampires."  
  
"YES! Vampire! Bloody Hell! Go with it, G-Man! You're almost home!" exclaimed Xander, rolling his hands as if reeling Giles in. Giles began to put the clues together, constructing a mental picture. A light shown behind his eyes and he smiled with realization, then blanched himself, erupting into a spasm of coughs.  
  
"Oh, dear lord, what has she gotten herself into? You don't think he's changed her?" Giles collapsed into his chair, shaking. Xander and Willow ran to his side. Joyce knelt by him, looking into his eyes.  
  
"Rupert? What's wrong? Who is it? Do you know this person?"  
  
"Y-Yes, unfortunately, I-I do. So do you, from what you told us of Buffy's last time home. From the evidence, we can only conclude that Buffy is in the company of Spike, AKA William the Bloody."  
  
"She's with Spike? The man she brought to the house that night? He seemed pleasant enough." She looked at the expressions on everyone's faces. "That's not good, is it?"  
  
"Mrs. Summers, Spike's an unrepentant killer! He's probably turned Buffy into a Vampire, or worse, made her his personal slave!! Giles, we have to go to LA NOW!!!"  
  
"Y-Yes, Willow, you and Oz will come with me. We'll head straight for LA. With two vehicles, we can cover more ground. Xander, you will patrol with Faith and Wesley. Sorry to cancel your plans, but I think it prudent if we concentrate our efforts on business tonight. Understood?"  
  
"Not a chance in Hell I'm staying here when Buffy needs our help. Besides, if she's a vamp now, I don't think any of you could do what needs to be done." Joyce inhaled sharply, understanding Xander's meaning.  
  
"Xander! How can you say that right in front of Mrs. Summers! Mrs. Summers, I'm sure that Buffy's fine, in the 'I'm still breathing and have a pulse sense'. We'll bring her home, you two can have a good cry, then we'll have our good cry, which I'm seriously considering NOT inviting Xander to, and then you can ground her 'til she's thirty five!" Willow tried to smile happily, but all she could manage was a pathetic grimace.  
  
"Just find my baby, and bring her home. That's all I want." Joyce pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes.  
  
"We will, Joyce. This I swear to you. Xander, since you insist on going and no doubt starting a confrontation, you'll ride with me. Willow, you of course will ride with Oz. Wesley, you and Faith patrol as planned. Be on guard, and stay cautious as we won't be able to assist you if you run into a spot of trouble. Understood?"  
  
"Yeah, Mr. G., no heroics. Gotcha. Hey, I'm uh, gonna split for a bit. Meet ya back here about 7:30, 'kay, Wes?" Before Wesley even answered, Faith was out the door.  
  
"Yes, well. Very good then. Mr. Giles, I can assume that you'll be leaving." Wesley sputtered to silence as the Scoobies and Joyce rushed past him, all intent on their goal of finding Buffy Summers. He looked around for a moment, then shrugged and left himself. Definitely a hard day, for a teacher.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
That Night, Westfield Cemetery, Sunnydale  
  
"Boring! Let's head to the Bronze! I'm sure there's a bloodsucker or two there to crack down on! I'm dyin' here!" Faith was pacing back and forth in front of a fresh grave that just didn't seem to be doing anything, rubbing a stake between her hands. Wesley, reading a book, was propped up against a nearby crypt. He peered over his glasses at the impatient slayer, clucking his tongue.  
  
"Faith, this is vital work. Stopping newly risen vampires before they can harm others helps to keep order, plus it sends a message to the other vampires in the area." His eyes dropped down to the grave Faith was standing on, noticing some movement. He began to say something about it, but held his tongue. An unexpected attack was a good test for Faith.  
  
"Yeah, feeding time at the Bronze, 'cause the Slayer's on grave watch. C'mon, man, there weren't even any good candidates in the obits. The vamps are on food runs, not recruiting drives. We need to hit the populated areas!" Faith threw the stake into the ground, stamped her foot down on it, driving it into the chest of a vampire who was just rising out of the grave. A lucky strike, though completely unintentional, it dusted. Faith stumbled and fell on her ass. Wesley looked at her over the brims of his glass.  
  
"You were saying something about.", Wesley began, dropping off to let Faith fill in the blank on her own. His point was made.  
  
"Okay, you got me. Grave watch important. No more bitching about it. Now can we go patrol the Bronze?"  
  
"I suppose, but first, I want to go by the Crawford Street Mansion, where the Acathla statue is. I've never seen it. We'll only be a few minutes, and it's quite close to the Bronze." He started to walk in the direction of the mansion, but stopped a few feet later, noticing Faith wasn't following. "Faith, let's go. We're done here."  
  
"I got you figured out. You're scared to go there alone 'cause of the whole Angel thing, right? Figure that there's probably still some goons hangin' around there, waitin' for the Return of the Bad. It's okay, admit it. I'll never tell."  
  
"I'm not scared of going there alone, Faith, but you of all people should understand the concept of safety in numbers. As a Slayer, you fight alone so often, but here, with the Scoobies, you have a team to count on, to support you.to watch your back."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Geez, man! Lighten up! I'm just funnin', that's all. No need to get your panties in a bunch. You wanna go, we'll go." Faith began to walk towards Crawford Street. Wesley had to jog to catch up to her. "Let's just do this fast. The Bronze has this flowering onion thing I've been dyin' to try!"  
  
Crawford Street was once a neighborhood of affluence that fell on hard times during the Great Depression and never recovered. Consequently, there were few places that had been kept up, making it perfect for the homeless to squat and for vampires to nest. All except the mansion. It stayed deserted, out of some perverted respect for the Vampire Angelus. The only occupant was the statue of Acathla, trapped on this plane of existence for untold ages, wakened from its slumber only once, albeit briefly by Angelus. Wesley, having no knowledge of this occurrence, wanted to study an artifact such as this. It was an incredible find, from an archeologist's or a Watcher's point of view. As Wesley and Faith rounded the corner leading up to the mansion, they were alerted to someone else's interest in the statue, as several workers, obviously vampires, worked to remove Acathla from the mansion. They were being directed by two men, one of them a well dressed black man who appeared to be in his thirties, the other a large, white man with long, spiked black hair. The large one was unknown to them, but Faith instantly recognized the well dressed one.  
  
"Trick! Goddamnit, that's Mr. Trick! And he's stealing Acapulco! We gotta stop him!" Faith went to leap into action, but Wesley pulled her back.  
  
"Faith, I share your anger when it comes to Mr. Trick, but we don't have the resources to just attack them. They outnumber us four to one, at least. And we have no backup to call upon. The best we can do is recon and report to Mr. Giles our findings. We'll fight this fight another day."  
  
"Screw that, I say slay!" With that, Faith leapt forward, drawing a stake in her left hand and a short sword with her right. Running at top speed, she was able to decapitate, stake and cripple five of the minions before anyone knew what was going on. The last minion, confused on what to do, actually tried to run, before Mr. Trick threw him back towards Faith, who staked him, immediately. "Hey, Trick Daddy, looks like good help's still hard to find, even on the Hellmouth." She settled into a comfortable fighting stance, waiting for Trick or his partner to make their move.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Miss Thang herself! How you doing, Faith? Still killing for free? I told ya, I pay real well for hired muscle. Even more for muscle that looks like that! Damn, you are one hot woman!" He shifted to game face. "Of course, me and you can just handle this, old school like. Ya dig?"  
  
"Yeah, I dig, but what about supermodel here? He gonna jump in once I start beatin' your ass?" She shifted positions to cover the larger vampire, who was looking at her with amusement.  
  
"You're the Slayer that eliminated Kakistos? That's funny. You don't look like you could take a stiff breeze, let alone a master vampire. You're even more unassuming than Buffy!" The vampire strolled over to Faith, never taking his eyes off of her. It was almost as if he was flirting with her. He stopped just within arm's reach. "I'm Azrael, by the way. You'll do well to remember that name."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"It's the name of your killer."  
  
"Why do I find that so hard to believe?"  
  
"You're young and stupid. Normally, I'd call it a phase, but since you're going to die." Azrael stopped talking and snapped off a fierce right cross, catching Faith right in the face. Her head snapped back as she fell to the ground. All at once, Azrael was on top of her, straddling her waist, pinning her arms with one hand, and grabbing her face by the jaw with the other. He turned it from one side to the other, studying every contour. "You know what, I'm not gonna kill you yet, doll. You're pretty. I think I'll just make you a statement. Let Buffy know I'm back. You understand, right?" Faith spat in his face.  
  
"Just do it, you son of a bitch!"  
  
"Step away from her, spawn of Hell!" Wesley ran up to the altercation, cross in hand. At once, Trick leapt away, making a beeline for the black limousine parked in the driveway.  
  
"Azrael, let's go! Acathla can wait! We got other problems to deal with!"  
  
"But I'm not done with the doll! I was gonna make her all pretty for Buffy!"  
  
"Money, we ain't got time to play with the white hats! Let's book!" Trick entered the limo, prompting the driver to start the car, it rolled toward the vampire and the Slayer, door open.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll just have to take a raincheck. I'll be seeing you soon, doll. Do me a favor. Tell Buffy I'm back, and I'm going to erase her from the face of this planet for what she did to me! Bye now!" He leapt off of Faith, dashing for the limo, slamming the door behind him. The limo peeled out, burning rubber as it made its getaway. Wesley ran to Faith, helping her off the ground. She was unsteady on her feet, a split lip, but otherwise fine.  
  
"Who was that freak! He was strong, and he never went into game face! And why's he all hard up for Buffy Summers?" asked Faith  
  
"Well, he said his name was Azrael, but from his face, I was sure that.no, it couldn't be. They weren't sure, but they thought that the curse worked."  
  
"You don't think.", responded Faith, eyes wide.  
  
"Yes, I do", said Wesley, cleaning his glasses with shaking hands, "that.was Angelus."  
  
To Be Continued. 


	8. Needs

"Four hours! How can a 45 minute drive take FOUR bloody hours?! It's simply inconceivable!" Rupert Giles was growing more and more frustrated as the deadlocked traffic inched along I-5 towards LA. And it certainly didn't help to have Xander Harris along for the ride. Apparently the young man had built up a lot of repressed anger towards the erstwhile Slayer, and decided to vent. Completely.  
  
".And she just ups and runs off to LA! Like none of us really even mattered to her! She is so completely selfish! All of us were hurting! But we, unlike her, turned to each other for support. That's what friends do! Can't you make this car go any faster? I feel like we're sitting still."  
  
"That would be because we are. Traffic is deadlocked. I think that maybe we should call Willow and Oz, and get off on the next exit. You all have school in the morning and there's no way that we'll make it to LA in any reasonable." Giles stopped speaking as he noticed the traffic moving again. In a matter of moments, what was once hopelessly deadlocked traffic became a smooth highway drive upwards of 85 miles an hour. Both he and Xander kept their mouths shut until entering city limits, not wanting to jinx their good fortune. Giles guided his battered Citroen onto the first off ramp, followed closely by Oz and Willow in his van. The two vehicles drove to the nearest parking lot where they both stopped, their occupants leaping out, eager to stretch their legs after spending so much time in a seated position. After walking around some, regaining feeling in their extremities, Giles gathered the group around.  
  
"Alright, the investigator had fairly detailed notes from his observations. There are two locations I want to check first. I-if both turn out to be dead ends, we'll start going club to club until we can get a lead on Buffy's whereabouts. Willow, Oz, I want you check up on this street mission that Buffy was spotted leaving last night. Chances are that there is at least someone who may have seen her there. Plus, the two of you asking questions there will be less suspicious than a middle aged British man and a teenaged boy. Xander, you and I will check out the club that Buffy was observed leaving when she went to the mission. What was it called again?"  
  
"Carrot Top's or something", Oz offered.  
  
"No, it was Carrie Taw's", said Xander, "I think. Or not. Hey, really stopped paying attention after 'Buffy's with Spike'."  
  
"Yes, that is a concern of all of ours. Remember, much as I pray for a good explanation for this, which there couldn't possibly be, we must remember that Buffy may have been turned." Giles removed his glasses to clean them.  
  
"Uhm, if she was turned, wouldn't another Slayer be called? That's how it works, after all. One Slayer dies, another is called", said Willow, unconsciously shivering. Oz took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.  
  
"Truthfully, I don't know, Willow. Never in the recorded history of the Slayer has a Slayer been resuscitated, much less there be more than one. For all we know, the Call may be a one time deal. You die, new Slayer called. You die again, nothing." Giles put his glasses on again and looked at his notes again. "Ah, yes. The club is called Caritas. So, shall we get going? The sooner we find Buffy, the sooner we can deal with the repercussions." The group split up again as they returned to their vehicles, driving off in opposite directions.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"You know, I wish we could have taken the time to look. It would've been right. He could have still been there. But you know what? Even though we didn't get any resolution in the whole Angel matter, I feel good about myself. We did a good thing last night, helping those kids. And Lily, wow! She just took charge of that situation, didn't she? Got them all moving, leading them to a decent shelter. Of course, I don't get why she changed her name again, but hey? Can't blame a girl for a little hero worship." Buffy kicked back in her chair at Caritas, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. The light had completely returned to her eyes, and she had begun to wear her normal clothing again. This bothered Spike, if for no other reason that it meant that she was one more step closer to leaving him. He didn't know if he could handle that. The reason that he got over Drusilla's death so quickly was his new purpose in keeping Buffy from flying apart at the seams. In essence, he traded one broken doll of a woman for another. But this doll was mending herself. Even with the unresolved Angel issue, having been to Acathla's dimension and all, she was still moving closer to being the old Buffy once more. He didn't like it one bit, but no way was he going to let her know that.  
  
"Oh, yeah, Slayer. Must feel good, that poor bint naming herself after a fictional character an' all that. At least she didn't take yer real name, seeing as how she knew it an' all. Don't think th' world's quite ready for two Buffy's." Spike downed another shot of Jägermeister, relishing the black licorice taste that he hated in any other form. Black licorice, black jelly beans, they were all terrible tasting. But put it in a shot glass, and it was as close to Heaven as a vampire could ever hope to get. He poured himself another shot from the bottle that the bartender handed over when he realized it would be futile to argue with the blonde vampire. He downed the shot quickly, then leaned in toward Buffy. "So, luv, what are we doin' tonight? Fancy another trip t' a Hell dimension? Or maybe we can go crack some demon skulls right here in LA. How 'bout it, Slayer? Wanna start a bar fight in some demon rat trap? Or maybe th' Whisky a Go- Go? Go beat on some human trash? C'mon! Evil's afoot! Grrr! Nasty! Let's go annihilate 'em! For.Christmas! An' th' safety of puppies!" Buffy looked at Spike with an incredulous look on her face.  
  
"The safety of puppies? Since when was William the Bloody concerned about the safety of puppies? And aren't you evil? Not that I don't appreciate the backup, or the fact that you're ruining your 'precious' reputation to even be seen with me, but you are still a bad guy, right?" Buffy took another sip of her Dr. Pepper as Spike's face fell, almost as if she had hurt his feelings. Buffy's face scrunched up. "Spike?", she said, "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" Spike leapt to his feet in anger, his game face struggling to come forth.  
  
"Bloody well right y' said somethin' wrong! I put everythin' on th' bloody line t' HELP you, an' you treat it like a big joke! I am not a joke! I am not some thing that can be dismissed th' very second Buffy Summers feels like her old self again! I did all of this fer you! I would've been perfectly content t' 'ave my ashes scatter in the morning breeze, t' join my beloved Drusilla in eternal night, but I didn't! You needed me! An' so, there I was, an' here I am, thinkin' maybe I should've thought this partnership out a little better." Spike's rage subsided, and he sank back into his chair, dejected. He knew he had just blown everything. Now that he had said what he said, Buffy was sure to leave him now. He stuttered out an apology, "Buffy, I-I'm s-sorry, I."  
  
"Save it, Spike! I don't need to hear you try to apologize. You think you hurt so bad, that you have the only right to feel miserable? Uh-uh, buster. I still hurt every single day. The pain drives me, makes me take that next step; It makes me live just a little bit more each day. I'm dealing, for a change. You should try dealing. It might do.you.some.". Buffy's voice trailed off as she peered over Spike's shoulder, transfixed on what she saw. Her eyes grew large, and she tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't obey.  
  
"What's th' matter, Slayer? What's wrong?", said Spike as he turned to look behind him. All of a sudden, a pair of hands grabbed him by the duster, lifting him out of his chair and slamming him onto the table, spilling Dr. Pepper and Jägermeister everywhere. Spike attempted to break free, but was forced down again, this time with a wooden cross with a sharpened bottom. "Bloody Hell! What is goin' on 'ere?!", he shouted as he looked into the face of his assailant. He recognized the face. Wavy, almost black hair, brown eyes, the ears that stuck out just a tad too far. "You, you're th' whelp! Th' one Angelus tried t' sucker me in with!" He struggled against the boy's hold on him again, to no avail. Xander peered down into Spike's face, locking on his eyes.  
  
"I'm gonna enjoy dusting you."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"The Family Home. This is it, Oz!" Willow clapped her hands in excitement. They found the place after what seemed like hours of searching. Oz walked up to his girlfriend, took her hand in his.  
  
"So, do we knock, 'cause I'm thinking they probably don't know we're here."  
  
"Yes, let's knock." Willow strode up purposefully and rapped on the wooden door. No answer. She pouted for a moment, then knocked again. Nothing.  
  
"Maybe they're not home." Oz shrugged. This was confusing to him. A street mission with no one inside? Impossible. Unless. "Buffy was here last night. She left with a bunch of kids. You think maybe."  
  
"This place is a front! Of course! That's why Buffy was here! She was doing the superhero and rescuing innocent kids from some skanky demon thing!"  
  
"Skanky?"  
  
"Well, I was gonna say ooky, but that seemed childish." Willow smiled coyly, batting her eyes at her boyfriend. Oz grinned. He loved it when Willow smiled. It brightened even his gloomiest day. He thought about all the things he wanted to do with Willow. The fantasies that spun in and out of his head with reckless abandon, from the apple pie and white picket fence to the kinky. But now was not the time to go exploring, it was Scooby time.  
  
"Willow, maybe we should go inside, see what we can find?"  
  
"How? The door's locked?"  
  
"Never stopped me before." He pulled some tools out of his backpack and set to work picking the door's lock. Within minutes, the door swung open. "After you."  
  
"Why thank, kind sir." Willow stepped into the shelter, flicking on the light switch. Soft yellow light chased away the shadows revealing.an abandoned building. The duo searched room to room, looking for anything that would shed some light on this mystery. Eventually they made their way to the back room. Opening the door, they found the pool that once was the conduit between Acathla's dimension and Earth.  
  
"This room smells different", said Oz, sniffing the air as his heightened senses took in their surroundings. "It smells like.fear and.pain. A lot of people came through here, and it wasn't a good thing. Wait, there's something else.". Oz peered deeper into the room, focusing on the distant corner. As his eyes adjusted further, he began to see a shape take form. It looked.human. "There's someone in here, Willow", he said, slowly entering the dark room. He found the light switch and flicked it on. Bright fluorescent lights flooded the room, illuminating everything, including the figure huddled in the corner. It appeared to be a man, curled in the fetal position. He wore tattered remnants of a black long sleeved shirt, and what used to be leather pants. He seemed to be talking to himself.  
  
"Hello? Are you okay?" asked Willow, slowly stepping toward the man. She reached out to touch his shoulder.  
  
"Willow, be careful", cautioned Oz, moving closer to his girlfriend.  
  
"It's okay, we can help you. What's your name?" She placed her hand on the man's shoulder. It was cold to the touch, much like the room. It was as if his core temperature was room temp, like a reptile or.  
  
"I'm no one, I'm no one." The man pulled away from her touch. The voice was familiar. Curiosity getting the better of the always inquisitive Willow, she reached to the man's face turning it so she could see. His face was thinner, and his hair was longer than she remembered, but it was him.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Xander! Leave him alone!", cried out Buffy as she finally got her legs working. She bolted from her chair and pulled Xander off of Spike, putting her body in between the two. "Back off, now. Spike's with me."  
  
"Giles, I think we're too late. She's defending Spike. Buffy wouldn't do that", said Xander, backing away slowly as he held the cross out towards Buffy. "We'll have to dust them both."  
  
"Dust us both? You think I'm a vampire? God, a girl runs away, makes a new life for herself, and what do her friends say? 'Oh, she's hanging with Spike, so she must be a vampire!' Here, does this help you feel better?" Buffy grabbed the crucifix out of Xander's hand with alarming speed, catching him off guard. As he and Giles looked on, Buffy held the crucifix, touched it to her forehead and then handed it back. "See, still human. I even have a pulse." She put her finger to her carotid artery. "Ooh, it goes thump thump."  
  
"Y-yes, i-it appears that you are--are still you, Buffy", said Giles as he approached her. She assumed a defensive posture, unsure of Giles' motives. But when he stopped just within reach of her and opened his arms, she gave in to the feelings that had shut her down just moments before. She collapsed into his embrace, sobbing. He gripped her firmly, as a father would his missing daughter, as tears ran down his face as well. "Oh, Buffy. I've, I've missed you so."  
  
"I missed you too, Giles", she managed in between sobs. Pulling herself away from the Watcher's embrace, she ran her fingers across her eyes, drying the tears. "Geez, just when a girl finally gets all tough again, you show up and pull the blubbering idiot out of me again." She sat back down and composed herself further. Giles grabbed Spike's chair and sat right next to her.  
  
"Buffy, why did you leave? We've all been terribly worried, your mother especially. What happened?" He put his hands on her shoulders. "Surely, it couldn't have been so terrible that we couldn't have dealt with it together?"  
  
"Mate, you don't 'ave th' slightest clue how bad it was", Spike said as he finished dusting himself off. Grabbing another chair, he sat next to Buffy on the other side of the table, putting his hand on her knee. If he noticed Xander and Giles' reactions to this, he didn't show it. "No one in this bleedin' world should 'ave t' go through what we did that night."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Well, what happened that made Buffy think that shackin' up with Deadboy Jr. was better than coming to her friends?" asked Xander as he took a seat as well, glaring at Spike.  
  
"I think Bu-th' Slayer should tell you. Prob'ly wouldn't believe me if I told you."  
  
"You're right, fang face, I wouldn't believe a word coming from your frozen ass!"  
  
"Oh, you talk a big game, whelp. Care t' put it to th' test, or is yer mouth writin' checks yer skinny arse can't cover?"  
  
"Skinny? The poster child for vampire anorexia, and you're calling me skinny? At least Deadboy was a bruiser. You look like you gotta put rocks in your pockets on a windy day. Or is that why you wear that stupid duster?"  
  
"Yer one t' talk 'bout fashion, boy. At least I'm not th' one wearing Hawaiian print shirts with those ridiculous khaki pants. Who dresses you anyway, yer mum?"  
  
"Alright, that's it! I'm staking you!"  
  
"Bring it on, you nancy boy poofter!"  
  
"Stop it! Both of you! Stop fighting!" Buffy stood up from her seat, backing away from the table. She began wringing her hands then she ran them through her hair. "Geez, why do you have to fight like this? Can't you just this once get along?"  
  
"Ain't gonna happen, Buff. See, the way I figure, after you kicked Dead boy's ass all the way to Hell, Junior here made with the freaky mojo and brainwashed you into leaving with him and Drusilla. By the way, where is loony girl? At home, doing the laundry like a good little vamp homemaker?"  
  
"She's dead, you git, so watch your tongue, 'fore I yank it out of yer mouth an' have myself a snack", snapped Spike, seething with rage at the boy's callous remarks about Drusilla.  
  
"What did you do, Spike? Stake her when you figured the Slayer would be a wilder ride? You're sick", shot back Xander.  
  
"I killed Drusilla, Xander", said Buffy quietly. "Back at the mansion, before Acathla awoke.  
  
"B-Buffy, you slayed Drusilla AND Angelus in the same night? That's-that's remarkable", said Giles, amazed at the fact that his Slayer not only survived a battle with two powerful Master vampires, but killed them both.  
  
"I didn't dust Angel, Giles. He had me beat. If it wasn't Spike, I don't think any of us would be standing here right now. He's the one who killed Angel." Buffy sat back down, her face in her hands. "Spike saved the world. Then he saved me. He's the hero."  
  
"Bollocks! You tell 'em th' bloody truth, Buffy, or I will!" exclaimed Spike.  
  
"That is the truth, Spike. I was weak and you, you were the strong one. Drusilla died, by my hand, and still you were strong enough to finish off Angelus. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."  
  
"That's it! Fairy Tale time is over!" Spike stood up, knocking his chair away as he whirled around to face the group. "You want th' truth, Watcher? Can you handle believin' a vampire over yer precious Slayer? 'Cause you need t' hear this."  
  
"G-Go ahead, Spike. Tell me your version of the events, a-and I-I'll make my own decision." Giles motioned for a waitress. Once one arrived, he made his order. "Single malt scotch, double shot, neat, and two Dr. Peppers, and.", he motioned at Spike to make his order. Spike looked at Giles with perplexion, then decided to roll with it.  
  
"More Jägermeister, a bottle would be nice. I think I'll be needin' it. You tell Lorne its fer Spike, as well as whatever they wanna drink while we're here." The waitress nodded, then hustled off to get their drinks. "You can put yer money away, Watcher. Th' Slayer an' I know th' owner. Drinks are on th' house."  
  
"Yes, well, th-thank you, Spike, I think", replied Giles. As quickly as she had left, the waitress returned with their order. Spike grabbed the bottle of Jägermeister, opened it and took a long swig. After the black licorice taste had passed through his body, he began to tell Giles and Xander what had really happened, sparing no detail. When he was finished, Xander looked despondent, and Giles pulled Buffy close to him, letting her sob into his chest.  
  
"That's simply.amazing th-that you two did wh-what y-you did that night", said Giles. "Now I understand why Buffy left us all. But I'm still unclear on your reasons for staying, Spike. It's been a couple months now, so why haven't you moved on?"  
  
"That's an easy one, Watcher. I've grown fond of Bu-the Slayer. I couldn't jus' leave her t' her own devices, now. What, was she gonna do, be a waitress at a diner or somethin'? Can't 'ave that now. The Slayer's too good for that sort of thing. Plus, we got th' mission now, an' all that. Ya know, put on th' white hat an' charge into battle."  
  
"Yeah, we heard about that. The street mission last night. An investigator from a law firm that Buffy's dad hired to find her told Mrs. Summers that you two and some other guys left there with a bunch of street kids. What happened there?" Xander was still upset, as if he was dwelling on some other topic in his mind. Buffy picked up on that.  
  
"Yeah, that was a funny thing. It seems that the mission was a front for these demons who were abducting kids for slave labor. There was a portal in this room, and it lead to an alternate dimension. Acathla's dimension." Buffy paused, letting the information sink into Giles and Xander. "So, the head flunky, Ken, never found out his real name, he tells me that they sent a champion back here to free Acathla again. So, I'm figuring that this guy's already in Sunnydale. Are Willow, Cordelia and Oz covering patrol, or did you stop doing that when I left?"  
  
"Actually, Willow and Oz are here in LA. I-I sent them to the mission to look for clues. Cordelia really doesn't participate in patrol." Giles finished his drink, then looked at Xander. "Xander, here, he has, well, he's."  
  
"I run the team now, Buff. Cordy, she thinks you're a hero, for getting out of Sunnydale. She doesn't think you should come back. Except whenever she gets into an argument with Faith. Then she wishes you'd show, just to kick her ass."  
  
"Who's Faith? Is she.?"  
  
"Yeah, she's the new Slayer. She's even more independent than you. Doesn't play nice with others, except Will and Oz. Her 'Watcher' and her are patrolling tonight, so we could come find you."  
  
"Giles, I'm worried here. Think about it. I was in Acathla's dimension, and they sent a champion to free their leader. You don't think.?"  
  
"N-no, it couldn't b-be him. Buffy, you yourself said that his soul had returned to him. Even after centuries of-of torment, which would be likely as time passes differently from dimension to dimension, he wouldn't just become evil. Angel was much too strong willed for that." As Giles finished, a light flashed in Xander's eyes. He had a thought.  
  
"Hey, G-man, remember what happened the week Buffy left, with the Mayor? Think that could be the guy?" "Yes, that's a good thought Xander, it could be th-that this 'champion', he has been in Sunnydale for weeks now, and killing the Mayor would throw the town into a tailspin, distracting all the right people until he was so deeply entrenched, he would be very difficult indeed to remove. I take it back, Xander. That was a brilliant piece of deduction."  
  
"Thanks, G-man. So, what are we gonna do about it?"  
  
"W-well, the-the most prudent option would be to police up Willow and Oz, then return to Sunnydale and see what we can uncover about this 'champion' fellow."  
  
"And then kill him?" asked a way too cheerful Xander.  
  
"Y-yes, Xander. By all means, once we uncover who this creature is, you, Faith and Buffy can kill it."  
  
"Who says she's going with you?" interrupted Spike, eliciting an assortment of responses from the others. Giles coughed, Xander looked dumbstruck, and Buffy looked impassive. Giles was the first to speak.  
  
"Yes, well, I assumed th-that Buffy would be returning with-with us, as there is a danger in Sunnydale that only the Slayer can face."  
  
"There are dangers here too, mate. Plenty of action for th' Slayer t' get her rocks off."  
  
"The Scooby Gang needs Buffy, even though she deserted us", offered Xander, who put on a smug face after seeing Buffy's hurt expression at the mention of her 'desertion'.  
  
"We got us a team 'ere, that needs her. In fact, Slayer, I 'xpect Doyle an' Gunn will be waltzin' in any time now." Buffy thought about what everyone had said. She had a decision to make.  
  
"Where do I go? Who needs me more? Giles? He misses me so much, and I miss him. And he's right about finding this 'champion' that Ken spoke of. But what about the people here who live with death and destruction every day, and not just from demons? My work here is important. Xander and the Scoobies? Despite Xander's words and actions, he misses me too. I can see it in his face. He wants me to come home. So does Willow and Oz, or they wouldn't have come looking for me. But then there's Gunn and his crew. They need a Slayer's strength to support them. And Doyle. He's just the messenger. He can't act on his visions on his own, he needs the team. And he's so new to this, fighting for good. He needs my support and strength to continue, or he'd probably just crawl into one of his liquor bottles. But I just met these guys, they're not the Scoobies. Then there's Spike. We've been through a lot in these last few months. We'll probably never really be friends, but we're definitely not enemies anymore. I need Spike, and I think he still needs me, doesn't he? But he won't go back there. Too many bad memories, for the both of us. He thinks my place is here, with him and the others. Others that would probably dust him in a heartbeat if they knew what he was. I can't leave him alone here, can I? But he can take care of himself. He's been doing that for longer than anyone I know's been alive. He says they need me. He says he needs me, but does he? And then there's.  
  
"My mom? How's she.?"  
  
"She's holding herself together, Buffy, but she misses you terribly. I- it's because of her that we were able to find you at all. She got your father to hire an investigator from a law firm he deals with to locate you", said Giles as he sipped from his glass. He put down his drink and reached his hands to Buffy's grasping them lightly. "The truth of the matter is, is that she is doing all she can to just exist, hoping that you'll j-just walk in the door. You never gave her a chance to fully digest the situation, Buffy. I know that time was of the essence, but you can't expect someone to just blindly accept the truth of the world. Joyce would have no doubt let you do what was necessary, had you just given her time to deal with the truth." Buffy let that thought sink in. She had acted rashly, and didn't give her mother a chance to let it all sink in. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe things were different. The past was the past. Everyone had gone on with their lives, maybe it was time to make things right.  
  
"It's time to go home", she said, getting up from her chair.  
  
"So early, luv? What about Gunn an' Doyle?" asked Spike, not catching on.  
  
"No, Spike, I mean it's time to go home." Giles smiled at her words, and Xander shot out of his seat.  
  
"I'll go get the car. Wait here", Xander said as he dashed away, stopping to make one last comment. "You lose, Evil Dead!" Spike leapt from his seat, grabbing Buffy by her shoulders.  
  
"What are you doin', Slayer? Th' librarian shows up with his little sob story, so now th' dutiful Slayer rolls over an' plays dead? I can't believe this! What about what happened?" Spike shook her slightly as he spoke, trying to knock some sense into her. She couldn't be serious, after all this time, to just run back home?  
  
"What happened happened, Spike. The past is just that. Sometimes, to move forward, you have to move back." Buffy lightly shrugged Spike's hands off of her, moving towards the exit. "Tell Gunn and Doyle that I had to go, that it was for the best. Give them my best, then get out of town. If Gunn finds out you're a vampire, and I'm not here to stop him, he'll stake you, or you'll kill him. Either way, it won't be pretty, and you'll lose in the end."  
  
"I don't accept that, Slayer. You don't just get t' up an' leave me like this! Not after what we been through together! It's jus' not right!" He started digging through his duster pockets, looking for his cigarettes. Not finding them, he began to spin around, looking around the area where they had been sitting. His world was unraveling and he needed that sweet nicotine fix. He became more and more frustrated, knocking back chairs, searching the ground, desperate to find his pack. As he began to shake with rage, a small touch on his shoulder caused him to spin around. Buffy stood in front of him, Marlboros in hand. She placed the slightly crumpled pack in his hands. He yanked the pack open, withdrawing a cigarette, and lit it, savoring that first drag. "See? I'd fall apart if you weren't here t' keep me together!"  
  
"No you wouldn't. You're stronger than that. You are probably the strongest person I have ever met. You're a survivor, Spike. Above everything else, it's what you do best. Survive at all costs. You don't need me." With that, Buffy retreated to the exit, Giles at her side. She let him go slightly ahead, then turned back to the blond vampire who had been her constant companion for so long. "Goodbye, William", she said, then walked out the door.  
  
To Be Continued. 


	9. Homeward Bound

"So, where do we go from here?" asked Buffy as the partially reunited Scooby Gang made their way over to Giles dilapidated Citroen.  
  
"To t-the Family Home, where we link up with Willow and Oz. I'm sure they'd want to see you in the flesh", said Giles as he retrieved his car keys. He paused for a moment, then looked to Xander. "Here, Xander, you drive."  
  
"Why me?" asked the youth, clearly confused at Giles actions. Despite Xander's leaps and bounds of growth in maturity and responsibility, Giles still would never allow Xander to drive with him in the car.  
  
"I've been drinking. I know I didn't have much in a normal person's eyes, but unfortunately, the State of California has no bloody clue what intoxication really means. So, you drive, and we don't all go to county for a free delousing."  
  
Xander shrugged. "Makes sense to me! Say no more, G-Man! I'm all over the driving!" He snatched the keys from the exasperated Watcher's hand, then slid into the driver's seat. Giles slid into the back seat, allowing Buffy to sit shotgun. Xander adjusted the mirrors, moving the seat back down into the "pretty fly for a white guy" position and stuck the keys in the ignition. Then, nothing. If it wasn't for the traffic already zooming by on the street, crickets would no doubt have been heard. Giles leaned forward to see what was the matter.  
  
"Xander? Is there a problem? Please don't tell me some hoodlums filched the petrol out of the tank."  
  
"If petrol means gas, no. We're sitting pretty on gas."  
  
"Then for God's sake man, why aren't we driving?"  
  
"I just realized something."  
  
"And that is.?"  
  
"This is a stick."  
  
Giles groaned. "Yes Xander, this car has a manual transmission. So what of it?"  
  
"Don't know how to drive a stick."  
  
"Oh, lovely. That's just great, Xander. Thank you for telling me now, instead of after the transmission fell out of the car." Giles slunk back into his seat, only slightly irritated. Nothing could truly anger him right now, for his Slayer, his Buffy was coming home. He thought about what she had to go through over the summer, living on the lam with Spike, who until recently he had only thought of as a vicious enemy. Even when Buffy decided to leave with them, and not stay where he thought she was needed, he didn't get violent or try to fight. He just accepted it, as if he knew that it was inevitable.  
  
Giles was brought out of his reverie by the sounds of shuffling feet and bodies scooting across each other. He looked to the front of the car again as Buffy and Xander traded places. He was perplexed by this. "Buffy", he said, "I thought you didn't know how to drive."  
  
"I don't have a license, Giles. Doesn't mean I can't drive." Buffy started the car, shifted into first gear and guided the battered vehicle on to the street, heading towards the Family Home.  
  
"Yes, but I thought your mother wouldn't let you take the test."  
  
"I did fail the written test ONCE, when I went for my learner's. That was before I got called on to be the Slayer. After burning down the Hemery High gym, Mom just didn't want to take the chance of me adding vehicular manslaughter to my rap sheet. So, I got Pike to teach me how on the sly, before Mom moved us up here. Plus, driving Spike's DeSoto for three months in LA gave me plenty of practice." She began to accelerate, moving up to the speed limit when all of a sudden-  
  
CRUNCH!! GRIND!! GRIND!!  
  
"Where's third again?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"She'll come back. I know it. She needs me. I'm th' only one who understands what she's feelin'. She'll come back.". Spike kept repeating the same words over and over, like a mantra. A shot glass of bourbon sat on the table in front of him, brought over by the Host as soon as Buffy had walked out of Caritas. Ten minutes later, it was still untouched. The Host stood by Spike, placing his hand on the vampire's shoulder. The vampire looked up at him, as if noticing him for the first time. "She will be back, y'know, she needs me. She can't function in th' real world without leanin' on ol' Spike for support." Lorne sat down next to the obviously distraught vampire, placing his arm around Spike's shoulder.  
  
"Sure, that's right, she'll be right back. She does need you. Everything will be okay again", he said, trying to placate him.  
  
"Hey! Piss off, you wanker!! I don't go fer that!" Spike shoved Lorne away. Rising to his feet unsteadily, he began to stumble to the stage. After crashing into several patrons of various descent, he finally climbed onto the stage, roughly shoving the fungus demon performing 'Nothing Compares 2 U' down into the crowd. He stood up, swaying some, then tore through the karaoke book, looking for the perfect tune to fit his mood. Finally, the dimmed lights of his bloodshot eyes brightened as he found it. "Perfect!" He jabbed in the numbers into the karaoke machine, then grabbed up the mike, taking a spill from the sudden movement. Slowly, he brought himself back to his feet as the first strains of the song came through the speakers.  
  
Lorne looked at the spectacle in dismay. He grabbed the nearest waitress, pulling her toward him. He leaned in close, saying in the sweetest voice he could muster, "Remind me to fire the idiot who convinced me to buy that Best of Punk disc", before collapsing into his seat, his face in his hands.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Will, this can't be Angel. He's kinda.dead." Oz stared at the shivering figure crouched before them, not truly believing what his eyes were showing him. "It's gotta be a trick or."  
  
"No, Oz, don't you see? It makes perfect sense! Acathla was going to literally suck the world into a Hell Dimension! It stands to reason that when the process was interrupted, however Buffy did it, it sucked Angel in because he was the catalyst! Of course! The one who was worthy! Angelus was the most brutal and vicious vampire since the Master! Acathla would definitely consider him worthy!" Willow beamed brightly, proud of herself for figuring it all out.  
  
"Uh, Will, shouldn't he be all.evil?"  
  
"No! The curse worked! I restored his soul! I saved Angel for Buffy!" Then, as quickly as her smile had appeared, it vanished. "Oh, God! Oz, I was too late! Angel had already released Acathla! Then I restored his soul! Oh, no, no wonder Buffy ran away! She had to send the man she loved to Hell to save the world. She just got him back, only to lose him again! It's all my fault that she left us!" Tears began to roll down her face as she collapsed in a heap, sobbing. Oz went to comfort her, when all of a sudden, Angel moved. He got to his knees, unsteady, as if he hadn't moved in decades, and moved to Willow's side. He wrapped his arm around her, lightly squeezing her.  
  
"Don't cry. They like to see weakness." He lifted her chin, looking into her eyes. What was in them before, the utter lack of personality, the desolate gaze that Willow and Oz had seen in them before was replaced by steely resolve. "I know it's hard, but you have to pretend like they've broken you to survive. Otherwise, they'll keep pouring it on until your mind fractures, and the whole 'I'm no one' act becomes a reality. I know. I've seen it."  
  
"Angel? You're you?" Willow dried her eyes and peered at him in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah, I'm Angel. Or at least what's left of him", he said as a small smile crept to his lips.  
  
"You know who I am?" she asked, uncertain.  
  
"Yes. He said your name's.Will. Isn't that a guy's name?" He looked slightly perplexed.  
  
"No! I mean, yeah, it is, but it's short for Willow! Me, I'm Willow. Willow Rosenberg! Remember? Buffy's friend?"  
  
"Buffy.I remember.I saw.Buffy. She went through a portal.I followed. It was bright, so bright.then.here. Where is here?"  
  
"LA, man. You're in LA." Oz kneeled down to their level, intent on figuring out what was up with this person claiming to be Angel. He moved in, to look at his face, when Angel's head snapped around.  
  
"I know you.I think. You.you were at a.party."  
  
"Yeah, Buffy's birthday. That's where we met. You gave Buffy an arm for her birthday."  
  
Angel continued to reminisce, his voice gaining strength. "The Judge.I had the arm of the Judge. I was going to leave town, leave the country. I had to get that thing as far away from Sunnydale as possible. Drusilla's goons ambushed me and Buffy. They got the arm, so we followed them. We were too late, the Judge was reborn. We barely escaped with our lives." He sat back from Willow, allowing Oz to slip between the two of them. He continued to speak, more to himself than the teenaged werewolf and his girlfriend. "We retreated to my loft.it was raining. She was so cold. I brought her there to warm up, then we.Oh my God! I lost everything that night! My soul, my heart, it just.went away! I became him again! Angelus! The Scourge of Europe. I became that monster, and I tormented her, night after night. I killed and I killed, piling up the bodies, just to remind her that she couldn't touch me!" He began to cry, shaking like a leaf as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He stood up suddenly, knocking Oz and Willow back as he staggered about, colliding with the nearest wall. Upon contact, he began to smash into it, harder and harder, bloodying his hands as he demolished the drywall. Chunks flew all around as the enraged, grief stricken vampire smashed through the support beams, causing the wall to shudder and crumble. As the wall gave way, so did Angel's legs. He collapsed in a heap, sobbing. Willow rushed over to him.  
  
"Let me see your hands. They'll need to be bandaged." She grabbed his left hand, bringing it closer for inspection. To her astonishment, the hand had already begun to heal. She could feel the carpal bones shift and realign themselves, popping back into place. She watched as the small cuts knitted back together, fading into bruises. The larger cuts would take longer, but they were haling as well. This was Willow's first experience with vampiric healing. She knew about it, of course, but had never seen it in action. Needless to say, she was impressed. "Wow. That was quick."  
  
"It'll be a day or so before they're fully healed", said Angel, as he gently took back his hand. "It speeds up or slows down, depending on if I've fed or not." He looked down, not wishing to look at the red head. She stood slowly, then put her hands on Angel's arm. She began to pull him to his feet, but he pulled away, not wanting her to help him. She stumbled slightly, but kept her footing.  
  
"Will, we should go outside, check the cell, see if Giles and Xander found.what they were looking for", Oz said as he guided Willow toward the door. She obliged him, allowing herself to be guided out of the room, then finally out of the building. Only then did Oz take his hands of her, rushing to his van and retrieving his cell phone. Checking his voice mail, he discovered no new calls. "Hmm, odd. No messages."  
  
"Maybe they haven't found her yet", said Willow, who was checking her own messages. "Huh. No new messages here, either. Oh! Maybe they did find her, and they were so happy, they forgot to call. Or, yeah this is better, they want to surprise us, so they're bringing her here!"  
  
"Or maybe things went badly, and they're in trouble", supplied Oz.  
  
"NO WAY! Why would there be trouble.oh no, this is Buffy we're talking about. There's always trouble whenever Buffy's involved! We should go look for them, Oz! They may need our help!"  
  
"Or we could just stay right here."  
  
"What! No! We gotta go help, Oz. What good would it do to stay here?"  
  
"Cause they just pulled up."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Accompanied by Francis Doyle, Charles Gunn walked into Caritas with a smile on his face. They had cleared out another vamp nest, saving ten kids in the progress. He had to admit, having Doyle sober was a lot more beneficial than having him tanked. He tended to remember more details of his visions. Of course, they were here now to get Doyle drunk, but he deserved a break. So, Gunn figured, did Gunn himself. Which was why he was glad that they had met the Slayer. The Slayer. Damn, that was something else. Gunn had heard the stories on the street, about the Chosen One, the one person in all the world who could stop the vamps and the other nasties out there, but he had figured that it was all a fairy tale. Even when some of the older guys on the streets, the ones from Hell's Kitchen in New York, would tell stories of a sister, back in the '70's, who was their protector then, as he was now, he just figured they were drunk or stoned, tripping off of some drug or another. But now, now all those stories had taken on new life in his mind. So, now that the stories had been proven true, he was eager to make his own mark on the legend. Never mind all the good that they could do here, just reacting to the violence, now with Anne, Spike and Doyle working together with him and his crew, they could take it on a larger scale, maybe do some real good for the world. Or maybe he was kidding himself. All his life, Charlie Gunn just wanted do something worthwhile, to right some of the wrongs that he had seen, do help people who couldn't help themselves. Hell, he even bartered away his own soul to Jenoff, just to get a truck so he could help more people. What good was a soul, anyways? It wasn't like he had lost it or anything, just mortgaged it against the present, the now. And a truck was more helpful to the people out there now than his soul ever could be. Besides, in this line of work, chances were that he'd be a corpse before Jenoff ever tried to call in his marker. It was best to live in the now, Gunn had always thought. That way, there were no disappointments about the future.  
  
Gunn and Doyle made their way through the crowd to the bar, where they attempted to order drinks. However, this was difficult due to the loud, raucous music being played. Being a demon hunter, Gunn kept an open mind about everything, even music, so he knew the band being sung to right off the hand. It was a Ramones tune, 'Rock and Roll High School'. Apparently, Doyle wasn't as musically broad.  
  
"What in th' bleedin' hell is that racket! Can't they sing some U2? Or, even Cheap Trick? I always liked that song 'Dream Police'. It had a beat, an' didn't make ye feel like stickin' ice picks in yer ears!" He finally got a bartender's attention, and got himself a bottle of scotch. He opened it, went to pour some into a shot glass, hesitated, then shrugged and began to chug from the bottle. After several gulps, he tipped the bottle back, smiled, wiped his face and said, "Oh, yeah, that did th' trick. I feel much better now, if only someone would put that caterwaulin' beast out o' 'is an' our misery."  
  
"Uh, Doyle?"  
  
"Yeah, Gunn? Did ye want some o' this, cause I can always get us another bottle, if'n ye like. No trouble."  
  
"Nah, man. I'm cool. It's just that.don't that guy singing sounds a little familiar?"  
  
"Maybe. Now that ye mention, it does sound a wee bit like."  
  
"That Spike guy? The guy who hangs with Anne?"  
  
"Anne? Oh, you mean the Slayer? That's not her real name."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Direct pipeline to th' PTB, 'member? They clue me in one these sorts o' things, now an' again."  
  
"So, what's her name?"  
  
"Don't know."  
  
"You don't know?"  
  
"Hey, I was drunk at th' time, boyo! It's kinda hard t' 'member all th' important bits, much less little details like names." He waved off Gunn, who was standing up to no doubt shake him into remembering. "Give it a mo', lad. It's comin' back. 'Twas.Birdy? No, that's not right. Bunny? No, that was that stripper who was so nice t' me when I had money, aren't they all?" He started to laugh, but decided against it after seeing the young man's anger start to flare. "Alright! Buffy! Buffy Anne Summers. Th' girl's name is Buffy Anne Summers." He sank down on the bar, as if spent. "Happy now?"  
  
"Buffy? What kind of evil parents would name their kid 'Buffy'?" wondered Gunn.  
  
"Can't say to her dad, but her mum's a great lady. Hit me over th' head with an axe, she did", said Spike, who had snuck up on the pair. Doyle shot out of his seat, so freaked that his face morphed. Gunn clutched his hand to his chest.  
  
"Christ, man. You tryin' to give a brother a heart attack?!" yelled Gunn. Spike smiled evilly, obviously pleased with himself. He wasn't so snookered as to botch up sneaking up on these two after all. He pulled up a stool, settling onto it gingerly, as if he could fall at any moment.  
  
"What brings th' bleedin' Dynamic Duo to Caritas, tonight? Celebratin' some bit of demon killin', or is this yer night off?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, he gripped the edge of the bar counter, then vaulted up onto it, waving his arms slightly to regain his balance. Kicking away drinks as he walked up and down the bar, Spike began to rant. "Yeah, you guys do real bang up job. Y'know, for every vamp you dust, dozens more get created. All yer doin' is stemmin' th' bloody tide. Yer like that story. Y'know, li'l Dutch boy pluggin' th' dyke wit' his plump little fingers? Every hole you plug, th' more cracks form. Yeah, good show, mates." He stumbled as he walked back towards the two demon hunters, but didn't fall. Gunn, angered by the vampire's comments, jumped up.  
  
"Hey, screw you, you punk ass Billy Idol look-a-like! You don't get it, man! It ain't about the winning or losing! It's about saving lives!" Gunn ran his hands across his smooth scalp, suddenly wishing he didn't bic his head. Having some hair to pull right now would feel good. Next to him, Doyle slowly stood. At first, Gunn thought his slowness was due to his being really, really drunk of his ass, but after looking into his eyes, Gunn could see that he was stone cold sober. And in pain.  
  
"Now ye listen ta me, ya little piss ant. We do what we do t' help people. Th' kind o' people who canna get help from anybody else. We help th' hopeless. It's my callin', an' it's Charlie's, here. He does it 'cause he was born t' do it. I do it so that maybe, someday, I can find a spot o' redemption for my misdeeds. I let a lot o' good people die. People like me, Brachens. Half breeds, not out t' harm a soul, but were targeted for extermination 'cause o' their heritage by th' Scourge. They did a good job, too. Not a one o' those wretched souls ever made it out o' th' hideout they were squattin' in, much less Portland. I got th' visions from th' PTB 'cause I failed them. I won't fail again. That's why we stick our fingers in th' bleedin' dyke, boyo. Why d' ye do it?"  
  
"I don't, you pillock. Th' only reason that I've any of th' things I've done over these past weeks, is 'cause she needed me to. If she wasn't in th' bloody equation, I'd have been doing what it is that I do best." Spike jumped down from the bar, pulling up a stool, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"An' what, pray tell, would that be?" asked Doyle, eyeing the blonde suspiciously.  
  
"Simple, really. Killing people!" exclaimed Spike, who at that point slipped into game face. He popped up onto his feet, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He looked from Gunn to Doyle, noticing their startled expressions. "Oh, didn't see this comin', didn't ya?"  
  
"Oh, Christ! He's a vamp!" Gunn grabbed Doyle and yanked him away from the grinning vampire. Putting himself between the two, he pulled out a wooden stake from his jacket. "Alright, fang face, let's do this shit!" He assumed a defensive stance, ready for Spike's attack.  
  
"That's really funny, junior. You think you can take me with a bleedin' stake?! I'm 118 years old, an' I've killed better than th' likes of you. Point of fact, I'm th' only bleedin' vampire in recorded history to 'ave killed two Slayers! Here, boy, let me show ya how." With that, Spike launched into Gunn, doubling him over with a vicious uppercut to the solar plexus. He grabbed Gunn's right hand, twisting the stake out of his grip and, in a fluid, spinning motion, launched it into the near wall, imbedding it in the sheet rock wall. As he completed his spin, he punched the demon hunter in the left temple with a hard right cross. Gunn grunted as he dropped to his knees. Spike didn't let up on the boy. He launched a hard kick into Gunn's midsection, knocking him back and up, falling backwards into Doyle. The two demon hunters stumbled back, Gunn's eyes glazed over. Doyle eased Gunn to the ground, and with a roar, launched himself at Spike, hands out like claws. Spike easily stepped into Doyle's attack, dodging his hands and laying a vicious strike to Doyle's chin, snapping the seer's head back. As he staggered back, Spike followed through with left snap kick, catching him in the gut and doubling him over. As Doyle tried to regain his bearings, Spike took advantage to bring a quick knee to Doyle's jaw, knocking him on his ass. Spike spun with the knee strike, spinning twice around with his arms stretched out in the crucifix pose. He roared like a lion, eyes gazing skyward. "Yah! I'm a bloody animal! King o' the world, an' all that rot!" Two bouncers came at Spike from each side, intent on taking Spike down. With little effort, Spike cold cocked both men, dropping them with one punch each. He looked at Lorne, who shrugged with the 'Hey, I gotta keep order' look on his face. Spike shrugged back at him, cocking his head to one side, as if to say 'hey, they started it!'. He settled back onto a stool, grabbing an unclaimed beer. He took a long swig, then looked at the two beaten men. "That th' best you two ponces got? I've fought women who were tougher than that!" He took another swallow. "'Course, they were Slayers, so you shouldn't feel too bad." He slid off the stool, then sauntered over to the fallen men. Helping Doyle to his feet, Spike dusted him off and helped straighten out his clothes. "There you go, mate. Good as new. Now, try an' keep yourself relatively vertical while I fix up Batman over there." Spike moved over to where Gunn was still shaking off the cobwebs. He went to help him up, but Gunn batted away his hands. Staggering to his feet, Gunn looked at the vampire with a look of disbelief.  
  
"Why? Why aren't you killing us right now?"  
  
"Well, as crazy as it seems, I kinda like this place. Shame if I couldn't come back."  
  
"That's it? You won't kill us because you don't wanna get blacklisted?!"  
  
"Well, yeah." Spike looked down at Gunn, then looked away, like he was ashamed of what he had done. He turned back. "No, th' truth is-Hey!" Gunn leapt into Spike, tackling him to the ground. He then sat on the vampire's abdomen, using his knees to pin Spike's arms. Doyle rushed over, handing Gunn a stake drawn from his own jacket.  
  
"Funny thing, dead man. I don't have that problem!" Gunn raised the stake above his head in a double hand grip. He looked down at his target when all of a sudden, Spike's human face reemerged. He had a resigned look in his face.  
  
"Go on, vampire hunter. Do it. End it, an' make it quick.", said Spike, grinning slightly. "You'd be doin' me a favor."  
  
"What were you gonna say, before I tackled you?" asked Gunn, bringing his hands down to his waist, but keeping the stake at the ready.  
  
"I wasn't sayin' a damned thing, you wanker! Just stake me an' go on!" screamed Spike, the pain in his voice evident.  
  
"Uh-uh, man. Not until you answer my question." Gunn got off of Spike and helped him up. Moving back to give himself some fighting room, but close enough to talk, Gunn pulled a stool over to him and sat down. "Start talkin' money."  
  
"It was because of her, wasn't it, boyo?" said Doyle, more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Yeah, I was doin' all of this for her. She needed me. There wasn't anyone else who could help her, not after what happened to us?"  
  
"What happened to you?" asked Gunn, intrigued.  
  
"Well, to make you understand the strange little partnership between me an' th' Slayer, we'll have to start at th' beginnin'. Th' year was 1880."  
  
To Be Continued. 


	10. Reunions, Revelations, and Black Thongs

The battered and aging Citroën pulled into the parking lot outside the Family Home teen shelter, coming alongside the only other vehicle in the lot, Oz's Chevy Van. The slightly dimmed headlights illuminated the van's owner and his red headed girlfriend as they stood just outside the building. The old car came to a sharp, lurching halt as the brakes were applied a tad too sharply for a vehicle moving so slowly. In truth, the car had not moved very fast the whole trip from Caritas on account of the fact that the driver, one Buffy Anne Summers, had indeed never found third gear.  
  
"I just don't get it!" whined Buffy, as she killed the engine. "I've slayed dozens, if not hundreds of vampires, beat the crap out of an invisible, psychopathic sophomore determined to do a little free cosmetic surgery on Cordelia's face, back body dropped the Master straight to Hell, blew the Judge up with a rocket launcher, not even mentioning Der Kinderstod, the She Mantis, or Darryl Epps, the red headed stepchild of Frankenstein. So why is it that I can't find third gear!" Behind her, Giles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Seeing this, Xander Harris began to laugh. Buffy looked over at her friend in confusion. "What's so funny, Xander? I know it's not my driving."  
  
Xander took a deep breath, to clear out the last of his giggles. "Sorry Buff, it's just that.Oh, this is too much.we've been reunited for an hour at best, and you're already giving Giles migraines!" Giles gave the boy an exasperated look as Xander exited the car, waving to Willow and Oz. "Hey, guys, look at what we picked up at the second hand store! Only one owner too!" At this very.Xander introduction, Buffy got out of the driver's seat, raising it so Giles could escape from the cramped back seat area. She moved away from the car over to where Oz and Willow were, but before she got two steps in, she was nearly knocked on her ass by Willow, who slammed into her full force with a hug.  
  
"OhmyGodBuffyitsyouitsreallyyouIcan'tbelieveityourehereandyoureokay!" Willow took a breath as she pulled back to look at her long missing friend. "Okay, taking a breath. Relaxing. Find my center. Okay, I'm good. Oh, you cut your hair. Looks good!"  
  
"Hi, Will. I missed you too. And your hair looks great!" The pair hugged tightly as Oz walked up to them and coughed. Buffy looked at the boy and smiled. "Hey, Oz. It's good to see you too."  
  
"Hey, Buff. It's cool that the gang's back together. Especially with what we found inside, right Will?" At that, Willow pulled back from Buffy in shock, cursing herself that she had forgotten to say something.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Buffy! I can't believe I didn't say this right away! Angel! The curse."  
  
"I know, Will. The curse worked. I guess you got enough of it done before everything hit the fan."  
  
"Uh, yeah.sure. But Buffy."  
  
"It was too late though. He had opened the portal. And I couldn't close it. Wouldn't. He was back, and how can anyone blame me?! If any of you had to choose between the love of your life or the world, could you do it? Spike could. He sacrificed Angel.and now I have to live with that."  
  
"BUFFY! ANGEL'S ALIVE!" Willow screamed at the top of her lungs, interrupting the Slayer's indictment on all of them.  
  
"What? Willow, a-a-are you sure?" asked Giles, a slight edge coming into his voice.  
  
"Yes! Me and Oz, we found him inside. He's alive, but."  
  
"Take me to him, Will!" shouted Buffy. Without word, Willow took her friend in hand and led her back into the shelter. Xander climbed back into the Citroën, rummaging around. He produced a cross and two stakes, one of which he gave to Giles.  
  
On Giles' look, Xander merely said, "Always be prepared!" Giles nodded in response and followed the girls into the shelter. Xander went to follow Giles but was pulled away roughly. Before he knew what was happening, he was slammed against the van several times. As quickly as it had begun, the attack stopped. Once he regained his balance, he looked at his attacker. Oz stood before him, hands shoved into the pockets of his fur lined jacket. Xander sputtered, "What w-w-as th-that for?"  
  
Oz looked Xander in the eye, a cool, calm expression on his face. He stepped in closer to Xander, and began to speak quietly. "The way I figure it, Giles will put two and two together eventually, and my Will, she's just too happy to see her best friend. And the damnedest thing is that Buffy had no clue whatsoever. But you and me? We know the truth, don't we?"  
  
"Yeah, you're right. We do know. We both know that I didn't tell Buffy about Willow's plan to try the curse again. I sent Buffy into that mansion to kill the man she loved without even bothering to tell her there was a chance for him to be saved, if she could just buy time. And so what! As far as I'm concerned, he didn't deserve to be saved! That soul of his was a punishment to begin with! He was and is a killer! He tortured Giles, played mind games with Buffy and the rest of us, and he killed Miss Calendar! He deserved everything he got coming to him!"  
  
Oz thought about that for a moment, then said, "So, he betrayed all of us."  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"And the biggest sign of that betrayal was when he killed Miss Calendar?"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"Who betrayed all of us when she didn't tell you the truth about Angel?"  
  
"YE-huh?"  
  
"Gotta look at things from both sides, man. This would never have happened if she didn't pony up from the get go, and you know it."  
  
"Yeah, I get that. But so what? We could do a whole 'Elseworlds' series on whether or not Angel would've gone all Big Bad or not. The fact is, he did, and we paid for it."  
  
"You don't get it, do you? You had a choice in this. You could've told Buffy the truth. See, I'm bettin' that she and Spike could've held him off long enough for the curse to work. Buffy wouldn't have left us, Giles probably would've forgiven Angel for what he did, and most importantly, Willow wouldn't have spent the entire summer thinking she failed her friend." He stepped in close to Xander, getting right in his face. "You'll find a way to make this all right again. And if you ever make Willow suffer like that again, I will kill you." He stepped away from Xander, turning his back on him as he walked to the entrance of the shelter. "I'm gonna go inside and referee this reunion fiasco. Why don't you stay out here and think about what you did." With that, Oz went inside, leaving a dejected Alexander LaVelle Harris alone with his guilt.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The front door of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was flung open fiercely as he and Faith bolted in, Wesley pausing only to look over his shoulder one last time to make sure they weren't followed. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his couch, gasping for air. Faith, however, was bouncing off the walls. Literally.  
  
"Goddamn! That was FUN!! Did you see how I dusted those five vamps without them even realizing it! I was on a roll!"  
  
"No, Faith, you were almost dead or mutilated. Angelus, or Azrael, as it were, had you dead to rights. If I hadn't been able to ward them off." Wesley stopped, not wanting to finish the gruesome thought. Faith kneeled down by his side.  
  
"Hey, I'm sorry. I admit it, I went off half cocked. No, quarter cocked. Hell, I don't even think I was cocked at all. He punked me out, and you were there to save my ass. Again. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't my Watcher, Wes. From what I get from listening to you and Giles talk, most Watchers don't get involved. They just."  
  
"Watch?" offered Wesley.  
  
"Yeah. I mean, look at Kakistos. If it was some other Watcher, they'd probably be dead, and I'd be on the run or somethin'. But it was you and me, whoopin' that ass!" Faith jumped back up, arms raised in victory. "You an' me, tag team champions of slaying suck heads! I'm tellin' ya, we rock!" She began to walk towards her room, already in the process of taking her shirt off. Pausing for a moment, she turned back towards Wesley. "Hey, do we have any pizza left over from the other night?"  
  
"Yes, it's in the refrigerator. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Could ya nuke some for me while I change into comfy clothes. You know how I get after slaying." She continued back into her room, closing the door. Wesley slowly slid off the couch and made his way into the kitchen.  
  
"Yes, Faith, I do know how you get after slaying. Hungry and 'horny'.", he thought to himself as he removed the pizza box from the fridge. He divvied up the remaining slices onto two plates and placed the first one in the microwave. After completing his task, he took both plates to Faith's room. Juggling both plates on one arm, he knocked on her door and began to open it. "Faith", he began, "we need to do some research on this occurrence. If this Azrael is indeed Angelus, returned from Acathla's dimension, we need to discover.how.he.got." Wesley stopped speaking. He couldn't get another word out, much less form a coherent thought beyond what he saw inside Faith's room. Namely, Faith. Naked. Well, nearly naked. She was clad in only a black thong, her back to the door. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled coyly.  
  
"Hey, Wes, didn't hear ya knock." She winked at him, then slipped a black sports bra over her head, arching her back as she adjusted it into place. "So what were you saying about Angel?" She bent over slowly at the waist, flexing her glutes and hamstrings as she grabbed a pair of sweats and pulled them over her legs slowly. Wesley turned around quickly, almost stumbling. He inched over to Faith's dresser, placing the plates down as he attempted to recover his composure.  
  
"She's just a girl. A child. An incredibly sexy, virile.No! What am I thinking! She's only sixteen! I've got to get myself under control!" Wesley sorted his thoughts out, banishing all the latent sexual tension to a far corner of his mind. He breathed in and out slowly, then turned back around. Faith had already grabbed a plate of pizza and was sitting cross legged on her bed, stuffing her face. Wesley thanked his stars that Faith's inherent lack of table manners made her seem more child like and thus not an object of desire. This worked well for Wesley.  
  
"So, let us review all the facts before we make our report to Mr. Giles."  
  
"Review what!? Angel almost kicked my ass!! Fact! Review over!"  
  
"Faith, it's not that simple. There are particulars we need to be absolutely certain of, like if that truly was Angelus. We have never seen his face, we've only heard the descriptions given by Mr. Giles and the others. Plus, he never identified himself as Angelus, only as Azrael. He could in fact be an altogether different vampire, using a passing resemblance to Angelus to cash in on the established reputation and garner more forces. Therefore, we need to."  
  
"Oh, good God, please don't say."  
  
"Research." Wesley went back out into the living room to gather up his books on noted vampires. Stacking them, he carried the ungainly load back into Faith's room. Depositing them on her desk, he took the top two books and sat down on the lone chair. He handed the first book to Faith, and dove into the second. There they sat in silence for two hours, researching, going through book after book until.  
  
"Got 'im! Here's our bloodsucker!" Faith held up her book in triumph, pointing to the picture in the book. It was from an article in the Los Angeles Times, describing a series of mysterious disappearances from a hotel, the Hyperion. In the photo, near the back of the crowd, but clearly visible, was Angel. And it was an exact match for the vampire they had faced earlier that night. Azrael was in fact Angel. The proof was now irrefutable.  
  
"Well, I'd say that settles it. We have the proof we need."  
  
"Oh, so when I say it's Angel, you go 'Oh no no, tut tut tut. We must research.' But when you see some old picture in a book that smells like some old dead person, you say 'Oh, my my, it must be true.'?  
  
"Yes Faith, that's exactly right. Now, let us make a telephone call in to Mr. Giles. He must be apprised of this situation immediately."  
  
"Knock yourself out, Watcher guy."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"It's right back here, Buffy! The room in the back! That's where we found him!" Willow ran ahead of her friends and opened the door wide, slipping in just ahead of the throng of Scoobies that piled in behind her, Oz bringing up the rear. Buffy looked around, realizing what room they were in. It was the room where the portal to Acathla's Dimension was. Of course! She knew he was there! She should have stayed longer. If not in the other dimension, at least in this room for the few seconds it might have taken for Angel to emerge. Speaking of which.  
  
"Will, where's Angel?"  
  
"Buffy, I swear, he was right here! Not even ten minutes ago!"  
  
"He's still here", interjected Oz, sniffing the air, "I can smell him."  
  
"Well, where did he go? He's not in this room." Buffy looked back into the hallway. "Did he go into one of these other rooms? Did he have clothes when you saw him?"  
  
"No", replied Oz, "All he had on were some rags and shredded leather pants."  
  
"Maybe he went searching for some clothes."  
  
"Or blood. Remember Buffy, beyond all else, Angel is a vampire." Giles ran a hand through his thinning hair. "His priorities are no doubt being fueled by intense hunger. I seriously doubt that his captors fed him well. It would also not be too much of a stretch of the imagination that his hunger overrode his conscience, if his soul was truly restored as you say."  
  
"So, you're saying that."  
  
"Angel may have had to fed from the people held captive there, no doubt having to kill."  
  
"I don't accept that! Angel has more control than that!"  
  
"Buffy, even you said that time moved faster there than here. I have little doubt that he may have held out for some time, but even the strongest wills can break. And I should know, he broke mine."  
  
"Oh, is that what this is?! Is this revenge time, Giles? What happened to all that talk about vampires being demons that took over the body of the victim? That it was a different person? Angel with his soul is the person he was before he became a vampire who has to deal with all the horrible things that Angelus did. And I'm sure, oh so very sure, that he's paying for the torture he inflicted on you, and the murder of Miss Calendar."  
  
"Do you really think that little of me, Buffy? Is that why you left in the first place, because you thought that we wouldn't care about Angel. I cared about Angel, damn it! He was a valued member of our team, who risked his life for all of us! I never forgot that, even when I went to kill the creature who had taken his place! But the fact remains that while Angel's soul may indeed be restored, it in no way banishes the demon inside him. He himself said on numerous occasions that it was an ongoing struggle going on inside of him, the demon fighting for dominance with the man! And in a Hell dimension, the man would not be able to withstand the torment indefinitely. On the other hand, a demon would thrive in a Hell dimension. So it stands to reason that Angel's demon half could have, I say could have taken dominance! I am only postulating a theory, not making an indictment! We will simply have to see for ourselves!"  
  
"Uh, Giles?" said Willow, "When me and Oz found him, he was pretty disoriented, but he was also kind. Just like Angel used to be, before the curse was originally broken. He gave me advice on how to survive in the Hell dimension, before he remembered that he wasn't there anymore. Then we jogged his memory a little, and he was overcome with grief over what had happened when he lost his soul. He even busted up his hand pretty bad. Angelus was a smooth operator, but he wasn't a good actor. There's no way he could fool me into believing he was our Angel. Not again." She looked at her two friends, who were both noticeably looking away from each other. "So, when we find him, and we will find him, Buffy, we will all see that Angel is back and we can be happy for a change." At this, both Buffy and Giles looked at each other. Both had misty eyes, but refused to cry again.  
  
"Giles, I."  
  
"No, Buffy, it is I who should."  
  
Oz stepped in to settle everything. "Cool, you're both sorry. We're done arguing." He began to sniff around the room, trying to lock onto Angel's scent. He stopped after several minutes, frowning. "No go. I can tell his scent was here, but I can't lock onto it, tell where he went."  
  
Buffy walked out the door, back into the hallway. "So I guess we do it the hard way. We search room by room, in pairs. Oz, you and Willow take the rooms on the left. Giles and I'll search the rooms on the right."  
  
"No need for all that, Buff. I think I found what you're looking for." Xander stepped into the hallway from the front of the shelter, holding Angel gently by the arm. "I found him in the alley on the side of the place. As best I can figure, he crawled out through an open window." On Buffy's shocked expression, Xander merely said, "It's real, Buff. Angel's right here."  
  
Buffy slowly approached the dark haired vampire. As she came into the light, Angel's face lit up with recognition and tears welled up in his eyes. "Buffy? Is it really you?"  
  
"Yes! Oh God, Angel, I thought I'd never see you again!" They flew into a fierce and loving embrace, pulling each other as close as they could get to one another.  
  
"You brought me home, Buffy. I know this now. I saw you with Spike, rescuing those kids. Kids I wasn't strong enough to save. You showed me the way home." He began to sob into her shoulder. "Thank you! Th-thank you so much!"  
  
"I love you", said Buffy, too choked up to say anything else. As they pulled back to look into each other's eyes, Buffy saw the fear and torment that still marred Angel's soul. It would be a long time before he was ever going to be himself again, if ever.  
  
At this point, Giles' cell phone rang. He first thought about ignoring it, instead concentrating on ensuring that Angel was who he said he was, but he decided against it and answered. On the other end was Wesley. Giles turned and walked away from the group of reunited friends so he could hear better. Ten minutes later, after hearing everything Wesley had to say, he responded with, "Yes, thank you for that report. Yes, I do think it's quite peculiar, considering the person you claim you saw two hours ago is standing right in front of me. What? Yes, I said right in front of me. Look, we'll sort all of this out when we get back to Sunnydale. I'm sure it'll be an interesting conversation." He hung up his cell phone and returned to the group, who were all still talking to each other, though Oz was giving Xander a peculiar look. He cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Pardon me for interrupting, but we need to get back to Sunnydale now. I just spoke with Wesley, and he and Faith are going to need our help."  
  
"Why? What's going on? And who are Faith and Wesley?"  
  
"I'll explain all of that on the way back, Buffy. But for now, we need to get going now. It seems that Faith and Wesley had a run in with, w-well, w- with you, Angel." Everyone looked at Angel with a perplexed look on their faces, only to see an even more perplexed one on the vampire.  
  
To Be Continued. 


End file.
